Black and White
by Roll
Summary: In the birth of a hero, there was a man who lost everything: his legacy, his life, his identity all stolen from him. He was replaced, ignored. But reality will not be neglected, no matter how desperately we latch onto the fake.
1. Sunny Days

This is the first chapter of my first fic in what I hope will be a series on ff.net. I've worked on Black and White for a long time now, and I hope you'll be pleasantly surprised if you stick with it and give it a chance. If you like it, let me know and I'll post more chapters. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. 

This introduction is rated PG-13 for violence and language, but future chapters may be rated R for more mature content. 

  
  


Introduction: Sunny Days

  
  


It was morning, and it was raining. Hard. Thick. It poured down incessantly, muddying the poisoned earth. Rain can be so disheartening sometimes. It did nothing but accent the already depressing reality of a once beautiful land that had bled to death at the hands of greed and corruption.

In the middle of it all sat the industrial metropolis Midgar, growing like a weed and killing all that it touched. The mundane metallic city was the very zenith of industrialism, replacing all the elegance the world had been born with by cold, emotionless steel. The sky turned an unhealthy grey, green grass was burned, and oceans were polluted because of the sadistic desires of man that this abomination oh so accurately depicted. In the world of today, nature had been all but slaughtered for the sake of a few Gil. 

Overseeing the contamination was Shin-Ra Inc., a by all means remorseless corporation that lead the disease that was capitalism. Feeding off of the very energy that once flowed so freely through the planet's veins, the company had come to accumulate absurd amounts of money and a virtual stranglehold on the economy. Once this was accomplished, it was fairly easy to overthrow any inconveniences that stood in its way, such as government or the majority population. For proof of money being the route of evil, all's one had to do was make their way past the closed doors at one of the organizations more 'strategical' meetings. Survival of the fittest was more than an appropriate motto 

A couple of its more victimized ex-employees trudged along not far from the massive atrocity, hoping against hope for some sort of salvation inside the darkness of the slums. The stronger of the two dragged the other over his hip, his wet black hair matted to his head and exhaustion withering his otherwise handsome features. It was easy to see an unfaltering determination in the way he carried himself. This man had seen many things in his life, and he was very much expecting sunny days ahead. His weakening muscles, however did not agree. He submitted to his fatigue and fell to his knees, gasping deep breaths as he let his catatonic comrade sag to the ground. 

The first of the pair was a twenty something year old who went by the name of Cloud. A shrimp by military standards, the First-class garb he wore practically hung off his somewhat skinny body. Despite being a full grown adult, he could have easily been mistaken for a teen, particularly due to the way his blonde hair stuck out in every direction. Just by looking at the kid it wasn't all that hard to figure out that he didn't think much of himself. The way he spoke and moved so nervously, it was hard not to take pity on him. 

The man that watched over him now had come to be known only as Zack. Few if any knew his full name. He was a man of a fair build, not much more or less that six feet in height but appearing to be a few inches taller thanks to good posture and the disobedience of his normally thick black hair. Most had no idea he was a seasoned veteran in the ways of war at the seemingly tender age of twenty-three. A charming young man in his day with an ever-present smirk (a near polar opposite of the brooding Cloud), many questioned why Zack would take such an outcast under his wing. He never really bothered to explain.

Five years latter, here they were on the outskirts of Midgar, not far from where they had first met, one practically crippled and the other just about ready to faint from weariness. What progress they had made since their young lives...

Eventually, Zack made his way back to his feet, carefully surveying his whereabouts as experience had taught him. He stopped in place as his eyes fell upon the mechanical cesspool he had once called home. It had changed so much since he had left. Well, at least he thought it had. For one reason or another, he was seeing it in a completely different light now. 

When he had first arrived here, he had thought the city was breathtaking, that in it lay endless opportunity and everlasting adventures. But today, although scarcely different at a brief glance, it seemed... well, nauseating was really the only word for it. He hardly knew why he was coming back here.

Well, that wasn't true. He knew exactly why he was coming back: a pretty young flower given the name of Aeris. Even after 5 years, her image was still burned into his brain. Her emerald green eyes... her chestnut brown hair... that cute little smile always etched on her face... He had seen the world and never came close to finding anything quite as pristine as her. She was an angel. The time that had passed meant nothing, he still felt he knew everything about her...

A pebble that skipped across the dirt cut through the thin haze of his daydreaming. He was being watched. Over the years, his instincts had been sharpened to a point of constant awareness, and even the slightest change in the ambience that surrounded him was enough to make him pay attention. That change had been the pebble, and just hearing it bounce along the ground was enough for him to sense that he wasn't entirely safe. 

He waited patiently for his soon-to-be attackers to expose themselves, anticipating an ambush to fall from the endless ledges that loomed over him. He unsheathed the massive blade that hung ominously over his shoulder. It was an extremely generic sword, simply a ridiculously huge hunk of sharpened metal attached to a rubber stem a little bit more than two lengths of the hand. Almost too heavy to lift, it was laughable that anyone would even consider fighting with it. But as the dark haired man held it steadily in one unflinching gloved hand, the weapon known as the Buster Sword wasn't all that funny anymore.

The first shot was fired and sidetracked with a skillful block of the blade. Machine gun blasts quickly followed when the unseen group caught wind of the sniper's folly. It wasn't the cleanest way to assassinate someone, but with their invisibility gone, they were left no alternative. It didn't matter, they were as good as dead anyway.

Whether it be from a dodge, a deflection, or just flat out bad aim, each bullet missed. Zack knew very well he wasn't going to lose a dogfight, but he did not appreciate the stalemate in which he found himself. In the blink of an eye, he dug his rapier deep into the ground, tossing a thick screen of dirt into the air and hurriedly proceeding to teach the assailants a thing or two about stealth. 

As the gunmen searched anxiously for the presumably evaporated menace, they didn't seem to notice the silenced screams of their fellow officers. After no more than a minute, there was only one of the original six left, and unfortunately for him, he was completely oblivious of that fact. He was cut down from behind before he even had the chance to comprehend what was happening.

Zack turned the last of his targets over and onto his back, carefully scanning the man's uniform. Shin-Ra Law Enforcement Unit, Security, Class 4. Even in five years, the attire hadn't changed much. Did they really expect these amateurs to kill him? Frankly, he was insulted.

His own petty squabbles were suddenly less important as he ducked a swinging saber, one that would have surely decapitated him if not for his foresight. As he parried and exchanged blows with his new foe, he flipped through the recesses of his memory. Shin-Ra Law Enforcement Unit, SOLDIER, Class 3. There were two more coming from behind a hill. He assumed they were answering the call for back-up the sniper had made when he had been uncovered. 

Focusing once more, he caught his opponent's swooping arm and twisted it before kneeing him harshly in the gut. As the man doubled over in pain, Zack placed the back of his leg over the man's shoulder and under his chin, violently twisting and instantaneously snapping the miserable man's neck.

Unnerved by the death of their associate, but none the less ready, the remaining two moved in, customized blades held high and ready to attack at the drop of hat. The hat dropped, and our young master of warfare found himself competing with two men that collectively should have been capable of taking him out, especially in his relatively sluggish state. 

But still he fought as well as his body would let him, moving at an implausible pace and never missing a beat, uprooting hidden weaknesses in the two SOLDIERs as he went along. Their big problem was efficiency. They were fantastic swordsmen capable of breath-taking feats, but their style was very boastful, using more energy than they should in each strike. 

It didn't take long for a mistake in one of the two opposing warriors' strides to appear. Of course, Zack exploited it, kicking the man's overly zealous stab away and unflinchingly impaling him. He fell dead to the ground, but still the melee did not stop. 

The last of the three SOLDIERs attacked furiously, contending to the best of his ability with an obviously advantaged warrior. Finding this rather admirable, Zack spared the man's life with a mind numbing shot from the blunt of his sword to the side of the head. The final fighter dropped to the earth, unconscious.

He stood there for a moment, trembling just a little as he tried to steady the speed of his racing heart, the mere thump of it deafening, blocking all outside sound. Unless SOLDIER had changed protocol, he had less than half an hour before the true professionals arrived, people which he didn't particularly want to have to deal with at the moment. 

He walked hastily over to his companion, who still lay their on the ground like a traumatized child, fidgeting as though some sort of seizure were shaking him from the inside to the out. Sometimes, he didn't know why he bothered with the kid. Cloud had always been more trouble than he was worth. He supposed it was just the price he had to pay for friendship.

Bullets fired through the air and punctured skin. Zack dropped to the earth, screaming in wretched pain as he counted eight holes in his chest and gut. Out of habit alone, he tried to stand himself back up, but yet another round was emptied into him. It didn't take him long to realize he was being executed. But this couldn't be happening... not now... he was too close...

He watched helplessly as more of the miniature projectiles filled his body. They were blurry and fading, but still he could recognize the three silhouettes standing over him, proud smirks on their faces. Shin-Ra Law Enforcement Unit, Security, Class 2. Humiliating. He had been beat by a few lowly street cops. He guessed they'd brag about this for a long time...

It was getting darker, or at least that's what he believed. Forever passed in a few instants as he lay there unmoving, vaguely feeling the puddles in the ground mixing with his blood and flowing like a small stream from his torso. Was he dead? It was kind of hard to tell. He didn't really feel much of anything anymore. He very well could be finished. If he was, should he still be able to see the smog above him? He didn't know. No one had really told him what being dead was like.

Cloud stared down at him now, his eyes sort of glazed. Oh good. For whatever reason, they had left without touching him. He assumed they had simply dumped all their ammunition on his own body. Zack knew he might of been able to survive such a beating, but not the debilitated blonde. 

"Cloud," He whispered, his calm voice unsteady for once. He didn't really feel like dying today. "Help me..."

The younger man paid him no attention, instead contemplating the infamous Buster Sword he now held in his hands.

"For god's sake..." He muttered, mustering a hint of chagrin into his voice towards his 'little buddy'. "Snap out of whatever the hell your problem is and help me..."

Still he did not bother to react, his shimmering blue eyes empty, absent from the world around him. An air of hateful recognition filled the poor boy's face. All his jealousy through years of being a shadow became evident as Zack felt his own blade tear through his insides. He tried to shout a million curses at what he had thought was his supporter but found he didn't have the strength. Instead he just lay there, his life escaping him as he grit his teeth in bitter agony. 

He glared dreadfully as his brand new betrayer disappeared on his own into the bleak recesses of Midgar. He couldn't believe it. The useless prick had turned on him. After all the years he had spent saving his pathetic ass... After all the times he could have left the bastard behind but didn't...why was he dying? What had he done? No way in hell did he deserve this, so why was this happening? Why?

There was no one around to answer him. The solitude alone was enough to drive him mad. There he was, paralyzed by his shock, trying desperately to think of any coherent explanation as to why his only remaining friend in the world had just left him to die out here in the cold. Of course, there weren't any. 

Bitterness filled his nearly extinguished soul. Worst of all, Cloud was going to get away with it. The only witnesses were the corpses surrounding his own. He could go ahead and make up some sob story about 'Zack died protecting me' or something like that. It was all bullshit. Cloud had barely lifted a finger since they'd met and he was gonna come out looking like some tragic hero. The fucking ingrate was going to pay for this someday, one way or another...

Tears from above poured into his mangled body, the gravity of his world crushing his spirit. He was actually going to die... He was a little bit scared, to be honest. It was that deep, crippling sort of fear that makes it feel as though the flow of your blood was freezing to a halt. But there wasn't much he could do about that, was there? 

He was beginning to lose sight of his surroundings, only trying simply to live. He found the Reaper was once more clutching his heart in its hand. He tried desperately to fight back as he had so many times before, but already he could feel himself subsiding to the numbness of death.

Why was it so hard to accept? Probably because he had never had a chance to atone for all the wrong decisions he had made. Instead of feeling fulfilled as he thoroughly scrutinized his life, he was bare, hollow, ashamed... 

He looked to the heavens above him, choking on the very air he inhaled. The rain had stopped now, and pale sunlight was beginning to peek out from behind the uninviting storm clouds. It was probably getting pretty close to time to go now....

He felt a subtle warmth caress his now pale face, and as he noticed a blue sky in the distance, something changed inside him. Acceptance was forcing itself down upon him with all it's weight, yet still he couldn't help but picture what a beautiful day it was going to be..

He wanted so badly to see it... 


	2. Thieves

Chapter 1: Thieves

  
  
  
  


"How's it going today, Bill?" A middle-aged man asked somewhat softly form behind the safety of his counter.

"Same old, same old..." The younger man answered, indifferently counting the bills and coins in his hand before slipping them under a small opening in a three inch thick bulletproof transparent screen. "That should cover it..."

The two waved a mechanical goodbye, and Bill picked up three brown bags, filled to the rim with food and other essentials. Silently, he stepped out of the homely little shack known as the local grocery store and into the streets. He moved along with his chin pressed down against his chest, avoiding eye contact with the various vermin that inhabited the poverty-stricken in which he lived. Instead, he contemplated the lifeless pavement he walked upon, a thoughtful frown on his face.

The slums of Sector 7 were a good example of how badly man can screw up sometimes. Those who lived there lived out of necessity alone, dreaming and working towards a seemingly impossible goal of one day escaping into high-society. Void of anything natural, it resembled a junkyard more than a village, much like one of those dilapidated towns in t.v. commercials with some washed-up celebrity trying to guilt you into sending some money. But this place had yet to see any charity in its long years, and none would argue that it was going to get worse before it got any better.

Bill was the most extraordinarily regular guy you could ever meet. With his plain brown hair and eyes to match, he was the sort of person who couldn't help but simply fade into the background. Definitely not ugly and definitely not dashing, and with no distinctive air about him, it was hard to imagine him doing anything outside of what he already did everyday while finishing his errands. To beat a dead horse, Bill was nothing special. 

"Don't say a word, and give me your wallet..."

Bill turned his head towards the voice. In the darkness of an alley, he noticed a scuffle.

"What's wrong with you? Don't you understand english?"

Curiosity overwhelming his usually unadventurous mind, he made a few strides closer in hopes of getting a better look. He saw immediately that there were two men, one of which seemed to be mugging the other. 

The assailant looked like he was close to thirty years old, but acted more like some punk teenager. With his bright red mohawk and sleeveless open leather jacket, it was hard to see him as anything but a common street criminal. For Bill, seeing this thug known as Evan commit some sort of crime had become practically a daily occurrence. 

The victim was something a little bit different, though. He was a dark man, maybe just a bit bigger than Evan, with uncontrollable black hair that reminded one of a hedgehog. A strong looking specimen, he would have seemed perfectly capable of handling his own problems, if not for the fact that he was bleeding profusely from a good number of holes in his chest and gut. He took after an already dead carcass, ripe for some predator to come feast upon. 

"Man," Evan began with a frustrated groan, opening what he found to be an empty wallet and letting the injured man sag almost discretely to the ground. "I should have figured a bum like you wouldn't have any money...Nothing but a fucking waste of time..." With these words, he gave the man a swift steel-toed kick to the abdomen. The wounded man rolled off his hands and knees upon the impact, moaning in wretched pain as he coughed thick specks of blood onto the cold concrete. The thug only smiled at this.

"T-That's enough, Evan..." Bill mumbled aloud from a distance in a rare moment of courage. "Leave the guy alone..."

"Excuse me?!" Evan snickered, turning on his heel to face the wannabe-hero "Who do you think you are?! You shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong, kid..."

"You do this sort of thing all the time..." The smaller man recoiled a bit as Evan pulled a knife from out of his pocket. "...J...Just leave him alone."

A broad smirk appeared upon the thug's mouth as he stood within a foot of Bill's face. Trembling rather nervously, Bill was surprised to find himself standing his ground against the intimidating Evan. Bravery wasn't ordinarily one of his attributes. Maybe he was just paralyzed with fear...

Unimpressed by the smaller man's bravado, Evan swung his knife backwards, but as he stabbed forward, he was stunned to find that the knife was no longer in his hand, but instead under his jaw. He didn't even have the chance to scream before he felt the dagger cut deep into his jugular, quickly proceeding to dig past the skin and muscle almost all the way to the bone, before mercilessly slitting his throat. A thin stream of dark red liquid spat out from the laceration, and Evan desperately gripped his hand around the gash in a futile attempt to slow the intense blood loss. He fell to his knees, wheezing useless breaths as his life began to escape him. It was only another minute or so before he was dead. 

Overtop the slaughtered man stood he who had only but a few moments ago been Evan's prey. Knife in his hand and his golden eyes shimmering a violent lust for blood, the dark man now looked to be the perfect image of a hunter. It was unsettling how rapidly the tables had turned...

Bill could do nothing but watch as the exhausted man collapsed against a dumpster, clenching his arm tightly against his stomach and inhaling deep breaths as he sunk ever so slowly to the ground. It took a moment for the awe to fade and for Bill to snap out of his shock, realizing the severity of the man's injuries. 

Drowned in sympathy, Bill rushed to his side, slinging an arm over his shoulder and acting like a crutch to help the man to his feet. He stumbled with every step, barely conscious as his blood continued to poor down to the uncaring concrete. Behind his golden eyes, there was an eerie sort of emptiness. He knew all too well what was happening to him... 

  
  


***

  
  


It was dusk. The grass was stained an unhealthy crimson, and the scent of death was heavy on the air. A seemingly never-ending sea of corpses stretched as far as the eye could see, both men and woman alike, each and every one of them a look of horror on their faces. Some awful war had taken place here, and if there had been a winner, they were long since gone. Yet there was still one man, on his own in the middle of it all, meditating uneasily as he stood unopposed in the battlefield, drenched in the blood of a million former comrades. 

He shook his head as tears filled his eyes. Why had they been so stubborn? Why couldn't they have just listened to him? This didn't have to happen, if only they had done what he asked. If only they had given back what they had stolen, then he could have sparred their lives. But of course, they had refused him, and he had been forced to give them what he had promised.

He had always said that those who gave no mercy should expect none when the time for their judgement came. He felt no different today. True, his heart was heavy, but blood had been on his hands many times before, and he had almost grown accustomed to it. It wasn't going to shake him.

He felt their backs snap under his feet as he walked atop their lifeless bodies. He wasn't being so cruel intentionally, it's just that there was no ground left for him to step on, only torn flesh and cloth. He refused to feel guilty. They were the ones who had done the wrong. After all, thieves were undeserving of his sympathy.

He stopped as he reached the top of a hill, and gazed around at the destruction he had caused. He sighed in dissatisfaction as he brushed his black hair aside, trembling at the core. Still his demands had yet to be answered. Still he had received no justice. But what else was there left to do? He didn't know, but he would figure something out soon enough. He just had to...

He couldn't bear to be without her...

***

  
  


Bill stood outside a ratty little building, taking a long drag from a cigarette. The dwelling had absolutely puny dimensions, and is was all just one room. It was a miracle that anybody could live in there. Generic and cold, it took after a shed more than it did an actual house. None the less, Bill had still come to call it his home.

He flicked the cigarette from his mouth, and crushed it under his foot. He didn't smoke habitually. In fact, he had kicked the enslavement to it a few years back. But the days past had brought him much grief, and at the moment he believed the small white 'death-sticks' were the only means of relaxing him. It had been a craving he was unfortunately unable to resist.

He stared at the dark grey ashes on the ground for a minute or so, contemplating the experiences he had over the past couple nights. Only forty-eight hours had past since he had seen the black haired man bleeding so incessantly in the streets. 

He felt an uncomfortable chill run up his spine, and he immediately reached for another cigarette. The guy had twenty-six bullet wounds in his body. Twenty-six. Bill had counted himself. As if that wasn't enough to kill a man, on his stomach, he had this massive stab wound about a foot long and an inch and a half thick. And to top it all off, he even seemed to have some severe sort of illness that Bill could only assume was Mako poisoning. There was no doubt about it, the guy should have most definitely been dead. It was absolutely preposterous to think that anybody could have survived such a thorough execution. But none the less, there he was in Bill's bed, still gasping for air, and very much alive.

He hadn't noticed until now that he had yet to change clothes since that night. Needless to say, what he was wearing was ruined. Stained by countless red blotches that could probably never be washed off, his pants, coat and shirt were actually what bothered him the least out of all the annoying little things that he had taken upon himself to deal with recently. It was probably the smell that bothered him the most. He still reeked of dried blood that was not his own. The stench of it inside his nostrils was nauseating, and he simply couldn't stand it anymore. He was sure it would drive him insane if he were not rid of it very soon. 

He tilted his head backwards and emptied his lungs of a thick grey puff of smoke. He watched it for a brief moment as it slowly disappeared, lost deep in his own thoughts. He was a little bit frightened, to be honest. What if the monsters who had committed such atrocities came to finish the job? Odds are they wouldn't hesitate to eliminate the man's supporters, i.e: Bill.

"I didn't know you smoked..."

A quaint but gentle voice was all it took to bring him back down to earth. Snapping to attention, he found a young flower to be talking to him. Average height and rather skinny, she was the kind of girl you'd take home to meet your mother; the picture of innocence and as charming as can be. Her clothes accurately reflected her personality: a pretty pink dress and a comfortable red jacket overtop it, with big brown gardening boots that were out of place on her thin legs. Her face, complete with gorgeous emerald green eyes one could lose themselves in, was, simply put, beautiful, not one blemish to be found on her pale but otherwise perfect skin. Despite it all, the most striking thing about her would have to have been her ever-present smile. Warm, disarming, and above all captivating, it was almost enough to make you fall in love with her on its own.

"I don't...generally..." He said before pulling the cigarette from his mouth and tossing it aside. "Anyway," He began as he made an attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere. "How's it going, Aeris?"

"Fine." She confessed with a cute little shrug. "I've been spending a lot of time in the garden, and I think it's coming along nicely."

"You do have one hell of a green thumb..." He nodded with a polite grin on his lips, loathing the awkward silences he often found himself trapped in while talking to any girl. 

"Yeah..." She giggled a little, despite the absence of any real humor to the comment. "Oh, how rude of me." She started anew after a brief pause, looking over her shoulder and pointing a thumb "Have you two met?"

He wasn't all that big a man, kind of scrawny and average height, but he carried himself as though he were much larger. With his stylized (or maybe just messy) blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes that almost seemed to glow outside their own sockets, he was almost too pretty for the First-class SOLDIER garb he wore. His skin was soft and white, void of any scars or cuts a warrior such as himself should have obtained over the years. He was by no means the type of man you would think of to be a trained killer.

"He's my bodyguard." Aeris continued with a proud little look in her eyes. "His name's Cloud."


	3. Dreaming up Angels and Devils

Chapter 2: Dreaming up Angels and Devils

  
  


Why was it so cold? He couldn't stand it anymore, he had already gone numb and he imagined his skin had lost all color. Were his eyes even open? It was too dark around him to tell. Was he still bleeding? Probably, but of course there was no way for him to know for sure. He couldn't feel a thing anymore, except for that diabolical chill surging through his veins.

He made a conscious effort to stop asking questions that he couldn't answer. Experience had taught him that it would only drive him mad. Needless to say, he had become very familiar with isolation in the past years, and he had danced along the edges of sanity many times before. Losing all hope was nothing new.

He had never asked God for help before. Frankly, he never really wanted it. He had always done everything on his own, and that was the way he liked it. All that he had he had earned, and all the problems that had come his way he had solved on his own. He had never wished for charity, and more often then not, he didn't get any.

An anemic white light shone in the hollow blackness, and the deep cold inside him began to melt away. He saw his angel, the only thing he had ever thanked God for. She looked as she always had: enchanting. He could only stare as she stepped closer. He felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of feeling her gentle touch once again caressing his cheek. 

She was still so undeniably beautiful... the way her hair spilt down her face and past her shoulders... the way her emerald eyes looked straight into his soul...the way her body curved... the way she walked... the way she talked... the way she smiled... He could go on forever if he wanted to, constantly finding something new that he adored about her. 

A second silhouette arrived, repressing the light with an unholy sort of redness. A moment passed, and he could see his devil. What was this demon doing here with his angel? He was a monster hiding behind an artificial mask of innocence. Why wasn't his angel doing anything about it? Why was he here? Why wasn't she making him leave? 

He wanted to scream a million curses at the beast, but it would never hear him. He had not the strength to fight, so instead, he was left only to watch as the angel and the devil stood side by side, gawking at each other. Why wasn't she doing anything? Wasn't it obvious that the golden haired abomination was an envious murderer? Why was it that none could see past the disguise? Shouldn't she hate him?

His body shook with the ferocity of his own vehemence. Why was she looking at him with those eyes? He had thought those had been reserved for him. Why had she just kissed the demon? Why was she touching him like that? How was it that this devil was being given all that was not his? He did not deserve the tenderness being extended to him. Why was she offering divinity to someone who had earned nothing other than an eternity in hell?

It wasn't fair... why was this happening? It was he who deserved this affection, not the monster. Couldn't she see that her love was sitting right here, waiting for her? Didn't she understand all that he had gone through just to see her? Why didn't she care about he who had worked so hard for her? Why would she choose the cowardly demon instead of the valiant knight? 

He yearned so badly to tear the pretty face from off that monster, exposing its evils to all the world. But he couldn't. He wasn't strong enough. Not today. But by all means, he would be soon enough, and when that day came, then the beast would pay for its deeds with its own head. He looked forward very much to the moment when justice had been served and his angel, cured of her blindness, was back in his arms. Until then, he would just have to wait, and allow the promise of his wonderful future to keep him going. His hope would maintain what was left of his sanity. 

***

"Oh my god..." Aeris gasped in slight terror, her voice but a hush as she stared with wide eyes and a dropped jaw at the trembling mutilated man that sat in front of her. "...Bill...what happened to him?"

"I found him in the streets..." Bill told her, wearily dragging a hand through his hair as he went over the story for what felt like the thousandth time in his head. "I can only guess how long he was out there. He was bleeding like crazy and he couldn't even stand up. It's amazing he wasn't dead..."

"But..." Aeris sputtered worriedly, frightened by the thought of such a vicious attempt at murder in her town. "This sort of thing doesn't happen out here...this is Wall Market sort of stuff, and even then, they usually take their business to the outskirts..." She quivered just a little. "How could this have happened?"

"I don't know..." Bill only shrugged, bowing his head and stealing a glance at the blonde that stood behind her.

"When did you find him?" Cloud shimmed in for the first time, leaning backwards against the rickety frame of the modest home with a suppressed sort of sympathy on his face.

"A couple days ago." Bill said with an interrogating sort of look in his eye. "Why?" 

"The wounds are at least a couple weeks old." He stated as calmly as could be expected, pushing himself off the wall and pacing the room for a moment or so. "He must of wandered in from out of town."

"But why would he come here?" Aeris asked, leaning over to look closer at the victim. The first thing she noticed was his black-as-night hair. Drenched with blood, it stuck matted to his head, the occasional strand of stained red hair poking out to make for an over-all eerie sort of style. His skin was pale (probably from the blood loss) and his figure was lean and perfectly sculpted, but unfortunately blemished by the many wounds and scars he carried. If not for them, he would have seemed quite handsome. His face was too beaten and bruised to be recognizable, but his lips and forehead showed hints of what had once been beauty. The most striking thing about him were probably his eyes, though. They seemed to radiate this strange sort of golden presence that was straightaway charming. An unusual yellow as the base of the color, they seemed melancholy; to be yearning for something thought to be unattainable. She felt as though she knew this man, and she craved very much to look deeper into his eyes, but something inside her beckoned her to get away, to leave this man alone with his pain and to forget he existed.

"He's completely traumatized." Cloud explained, unintentionally patronizing. "He probably doesn't understand what's going on. There must be something in this town that he genuinely wants, or else there's no way he could have made it here in his condition."

"How do you know all this?" Bill wondered aloud, raising an inquiring eyebrow at the stranger. Cloud only politely tapped the small buckle on his belt that showed the mark of a First-class SOLDIER, almost as if to say 'Duh'.

"Well what about..." Aeris began but was immediately cut off by her own screaming as she felt something wrap around her ankle. The three of them turned to find that the dark haired man had fallen to the floor, and was desperately clenching her leg in his hand, a pleading and admonishing look on his face. With one swift movement, Cloud extracted the massive blade that hung over his shoulder and hit the man harshly with the blunt-side, effectively knocking him out.

"What was that?!" She yelped as she backed away into Cloud's arms, shaking with fear and barely able to support her own weight.

"I don't know!" Bill rebutted, nearly as shocked as Aeris, trying to lift the man back onto his feet with little success.

"There's nothing we can do here." Cloud cut in with that SOLDIER's stillness of his, pacifying the mayhem and instantly easing everyone's nerves just a bit. "Aeris, we need to get going."

She inhaled a few deep breaths, never removing her gaze from the black haired man as Bill put him back atop his bed. Finally, she nodded her head in agreement and the two abruptly made their exit. But as they left, Bill couldn't help but notice how intently the dark man watched them. 

***

Bill trotted briskly through the streets of Sector 7, three brown bags in his arms, a heavy grey trench-coat over his shoulders and a hood pulled over his head. Down in the slums, the weak were forced to learn to be inconspicuous. The last thing one wanted to do was stand out in the eyes of thieves.

He let a frustrated sigh escape him as he forced his keys into the small lock of his front door. Realistically, such security was pretty much useless. He had nothing worth stealing, and everybody knew it. Even if someone wanted to break-in for whatever reason, the door would be easy enough to knock down. The precaution was more of a force of habit than anything else.

His mind wandered back to the previous night, when Aeris and her new squeeze had visited him. He had to admit, he was somewhat jealous of the man. He had always had a bit of an innocent crush on the young and charming Aeris, along with a couple fantasies about her he had never had the guts to fulfill. How the blonde had managed to get a girl like her at his side was beyond the envious Bill. She must of had a thing for a man in uniform...

As a matter of fact, he had a vague memory of her first boyfriend, one who she had truly seemed fond of. If he recalled correctly, the guy had been a First-class SOLDIER, much like this Cloud character. Strong, handsome, but above all charismatic, he had really been the total package, almost to a fault. What had been his name... Zeek, no...Jack maybe? Anyway, Aeris had been head over heels in love with this guy, and it was believed that he returned the sentiment. Imagine everyone's surprise when he left town, never to be seen again.

Aeris had been wrecked, and rightfully so. He had told her that he'd be gone on a mission for a couple weeks and never came back. Most gossiped that he had run away with some hussy, a typical assumption considering the fact that he was male. No one had even regarded what should have been the more probable presumption, that of course being that the man had been killed during his mission. After all, who or what in this world could kill a first-class SOLDIER? Those kinds of things were few and far between. 

Aeris had balled her eyes out when she had finally accepted 'the truth'. She and everybody else promptly despised the guy. But it wasn't entirely fair to denounce this guy without any kind of facts or trial, was it? Bill supposed it was just a lot easier to hate someone than to mourn for them...

Unjustly or not, the guy had come out of the whole ordeal looking like a sleazy jerk. Close to five years latter, and he had yet to show his face. Probably for the better. If he were to come back here, odds are the town wouldn't be too hospitable. No one would really stand in his way, though. He was a first-class SOLDIER, for God's sake! The residents were angry, not stupid.

"Is your name Bill?" A voice asked form the darkness of an alley.

He gestured yes without giving it much thought, and took a step towards the mysterious specter, only to feel something hard and heavy hit him on the back of the head, sending him sprawling to the ground. Through the disoriented haze that was now his vision, he looked up at his attackers, and was slightly confused to find himself staring down the long metallic barrel of a gun. 

"Courtesy of Evan..." The voice muttered plainly before pulling the trigger.

The sound of gunfire and the heavy thump of a dead body falling to the ground echoed throughout the entire town. A thick puddle of blood pooled itself upon the pavement from the large cavity that now occupied most of the space on Bill's face. The town went on as usual...


	4. Within Oblivion

Chapter 3:Within Oblivion 

  
  
  
  
  
  


He sat there in the dark, all alone for an eternity, hopelessly trying to understand why he had fallen into this dreadful mess. He thought hard about the last two weeks, the last two months, the last two years, until finally he thought about his entire life. Everything was justified. Everything was necessary. Not once could he find something to explain why he deserved this. Not once could he find a reason for him being here. Not once could he find an incentive for God to enjoy toying with him so much.

Why was there no one else here? He didn't want to be here anymore, he wanted to leave. It was like outer space: cold, bleak, empty, and dead silent, though there were no stars, no sun, nothing to give even the faintest light. Only complete and utter blackness. He felt like a brain without a body. He couldn't move, he couldn't see, he couldn't hear, he couldn't even talk. He could only think. Strange that nothingness was the most horrifying experience he had ever had.

God, it was quiet. He could scream as loud as he wanted but still he wouldn't hear a thing. It was maddening. Where was the noise? He wanted so badly to hear something... to see something... to taste something... to smell something... to feel something... Anything! It didn't matter what, as long as it was something other than nothing. He couldn't stand nothing for another second.

How long ago was it that he had gone insane? A day? Maybe two? He was getting tired of living without time. Did this count as living? It was hard to say. Without time, there can be no beginning or end, two necessities for existence. So then was he dead? Was he in heaven, or hell? Neither, probably. God hated him too much to let him past the front gate, and as for hell, he had already been there and back, and this certainly wasn't it. 

When was his angel coming? How he missed her... It had been far too long since he had touched her. He hoped that it wouldn't be long until everything was as it should be. No matter how far he strayed, her smile could and would always bring him back to where he belonged. Despite his growing impatience, he could wait as long as he had to. There wasn't anything else in this void he could do, anyway. 

Somewhere in the darkness, he could hear a laugh. No. He had wanted something, but not that. No. Not even God could be this cruel. The thunk of a heavy boot taking a step echoed. It couldn't be. He had watched him die. A thin, impossibly long blade shone in the distance, and a heinous sort of smirk lay etched on the owner's face. 

Another footstep. He whimpered a little as he felt a forgotten fear climb up his spine. No. This monster couldn't be here. He was dead. Dead and gone. He had watched him die. He couldn't be here. No no no no no no... 

"Adam," the voice sneered in jest. "you're looking well."

No no no no no no no no no no no no...

  
  


***

  
  


Four days had passed since Bill had been found dead in the streets. His funeral had been somewhat of a detached gathering, occupied mostly by acquaintances of the deceased, as opposed to close friends and family, neither of which Bill had. No one had cried, and most who were there felt that they shouldn't be. It had been a closed-casket ceremony, for obvious purposes. The whole affair had been sad, but for all the wrong reasons.

Elmyra was on her way back, her face careworn and exhausted. She was a plain looking woman, with a wide waist and a regular face. Her clothes were just barely above the rest of the slums as far as quality went: a long brown skirt with a comfortable violet blouse, along with a white flowered apron and, at the moment, a big heavy raincoat. Her hair was a faded sort of rust color, with the occasional strand of grey, all tied together at the back of her head in a slightly messy knot. Most were dumfounded to learn that she was mother to someone as stunning as Aeris.

She hadn't known Bill all that well. Other than the couple of times Aeris had talked to him while passing by, the two had hardly met. She had just been desperate to escape her solitude and get out of the house. Whenever Aeris was gone, she was left alone in that empty place, spending most of her day sitting in her chair and staring out the window. Of course, she had jumped at the chance for any sort of social event, even if it was a funeral. Imagine her surprise when she had been asked to go clean out Bill's home.

She jiggled the key inside the lock, struggling to open the door with little success. She was a bit surprised that scavengers hadn't already gutted the place, stealing anything that could be mistaken for valuable. She let an exasperated sigh escape her. The world had become such an ugly place...

She heard muffled gasps for air from inside the petite structure. She took a frightened step away from the door, imagining what kind of thieves or murderers might have wandered into the small abode. If she were to barge in, all kinds of horrible things could happen to her. She could get hurt, or worse. Then again, the breaths sounded strained. Someone inside there could be in trouble... 

She stood there for a drawn-out minute, weighing her options with great care. Her heart thumped loudly, and she could clearly hear her rapid pulse in her ear. She felt a giant lump gather in her throat as she moved to open the door, but once more she froze. Why was she doing this? Whatever was in that room wasn't any of her business. She had no real purpose for being here. So then why wasn't she leaving?

For one reason or another, she simply could not walk away. The ominous ambience of this quaint little home just wouldn't let her go. As much as the idea unnerved her, something was beckoning her to turn that knob. Something was begging her to enter. Something was imploring her for any kind of pity... 

She took a deep breath, swallowed her paranoia, and twisted the knob...

  
  


***

...no no no no no no no no no no no no...

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" The voice began in an odd good-humour "Five years, is it?"

He gave no answer, instead trying to convince himself that there was nothing once more there around him.

"Why so glum?" The voice taunted with a mock concern. "You haven't missed me, have you?"

He wasn't here. There was no way. Only a hallucination...

"I didn't think so." That sick sadistic laugh echoed once more. "How I do miss the days before our falling out..." 

"Get the hell away from me..." He spat the words like a bitter poison, gritting his teeth all the while. "You don't even exist anymore, you fucking bastard..."

"You're never afraid of anything for very long, are you Adam?" The voice continued, pacing soundlessly through the darkness. "It wasn't all that long ago that you would never have dared say something like that to me. How times have changed..."

"You don't exist..." He muttered to himself, ignoring every word that escaped that hideous smile. "You're not here...Go away..."

"That's right, you're just losing your mind, everything's okay." Its grin broadened wider still. "It's always easier to think that. Enlightenment is just too terrifying for people these days, isn't it? Besides, even if I were just a figment," It rolled its eyes at the thought "what is it that makes you think you could make me leave? What power do you have here that could rid you of me?"

"You're dead." He reassured himself. "You have been for years...I ...I watched it happen myself..."

"Yes, yes, yes." The voice admitted unhappily. "But I've been reborn." It stated, it's mood lifted, raising its arms as though it were spreading hawk-like invisible wings. "And I thinks it's time that you were too..."

"No..." He shook his seemingly absent head as he trembled at his core "I won't listen to you...I won't..."

"I knew you'd be difficult like this." It only shrugged its broad shoulders. "Unfortunately for you, though, there's not much you can do BUT listen these days, is there? I can change that, though." the voice had a rather promising tone. "I can help make you what you once were, Adam. I can save you from this horrible oblivion in which your trapped. I can help you get back the incredible power that you've forgotten. We can go back to the way it was." A joyous sort of anxiety filled the voice "We were unbeatable together, and we can be again, just let me help you..."

"I don't want anything from you!" He roared viciously at the silver haired demon. "Just get out of my head and never show your fucking face again..."

"For god's sake!" For the first time, an obvious frustration from the voice spilled out into the open. "I'm offering you salvation, here! Take it!" Its volume boomed through the emptiness like thunder."Don't be such a fool!!!"

He gave no response, concentrating as hard as he could on anything other than the monster. But there were only their two voices in this abomination of a world...

"I know what you want, Adam..." The voice pulled itself back together, forming a new strategy as it spoke. "I can see it in your heart. You want that little blonde freak to bleed to death in your hands..."

"No.." He yearned for the beast to make its exit.

"...You want to tear that face of his from off his head..."

"Shut up..."

"...You want to have him beg and cry for mercy..."

"Please..."

"...You want to have his decapitated head for a trophy, secured at the top of your sword."

"Leave me alone..." He sobbed somewhat pathetically as the voice probed incessantly

"...I can deliver him to you..."

Denial didn't help...

"...I can even bring you back your angel."

Deep down, he really did want it...

"I can help you rediscover what you are." The voice went on, moving ever closer to its prone prey. "You know as well as I do that there's more to you than what's there when you look in the mirror. I can help you see past all this fog that surrounds you. If you let me be your shining light, I can make you the god you once were. Or you can ignore me," The voice calmly stepped away as it began to pace the unlimited space, hands held behind its back "you can stay here all by yourself and be ensnared forever. It's really your choice." It turned on its heel and looked him straight in the eye. "Well?" It pressed him to make a decision, almost losing its composure as it waited expectantly. "What say you?"

His eyes shimmered that violent gold as he stared into the piercing green irises of this psychotic menace. Forever passed as the trapped dark haired man contemplated whether or not to sell what was left of his humanity. To submit; to surrender; to give in to his hate...or to fight; to deny; to somehow withstand this reality that imprisoned him.

Conflict surged through his heart. Could he truly become everything that he had fought for so long? Could he do away with everything else in his life for the promise of vengeance? His angel was ever-present in his mind's eye. What would she think? What would he say if she were to look down at the horror of his deeds and the hate in his soul? Could he ever make it up to her? Would he have the courage to face her if he sacrificed himself to the devil, or would his shame cripple him?

But what if he remained strong? What if he were to refuse this beast of its will? Would he have the strength to escape this black cage? Would he conquer it? What if he were imprisoned forever? What if he could never see his angel again? What if he could never touch her face?

Was he willing to forget his angel and try and start something new? What would be the use of living if he couldn't be with her, anyway? How long until his loneliness would make him pray for a second cell in this darkness? He knew then and there that he would not be able to withstand it, and there was only one choice to be made...

He felt the last of his innocense die as he hammered the last nail into the coffin, burying it deep down, never for it to surface again. Finally, he nodded his head, a grievous sort of acceptance washing over him. He condemned himself to hell for doing it, but he would give anything, everything and even the nothingness around him to gaze upon his angel just once more... 

  
  
  
  


A toothy smile brightened in the darkness... 


	5. The Eyes in the Mirror

Chapter 4: The eyes in the mirror

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was a small, remarkably cozy little room. Painted a pale sort of blue, it was long and narrow with a profound lack of any extra space. Straight across from an old creaky door was a window, with clear white drapes that floated in a gentle early-autumn breeze. It wasn't particularly marvelous, but it did manage to radiate a very comforting sort of warmth, which easily transformed it into a picture of beauty. 

In one corner rested a single bed, with plain red sheets and two colourless flowered pillows. Beside the bed was a small redwood chest, which inside held the things a young lady might have: a small kit of make-up and other cosmetics, a few magazines, some jewelry, and a scruffy grey teddy-bear. Across the room sat a lanky, oak- colored armoire, home to several dresses, skirts, and then of course some more comfortable wear. 

Atop the afore-mentioned bed was a very dark looking man. His hair a bizarre pitch-black, it resembled that of a panther more than it did a human's. It was a perfect contrast to his somewhat pale skin, that these days simply seemed to refuse to attain any further tan. He was blatantly injured, as the dark crimson stains of blood on his clothes, which lay atop the chest, indicated several serious wounds. Needless to say, he seemed ridiculously out of place in what was obviously a pristine image of peace. And peaceful, he was not.

He opened his eyes, and let them adjust to the colours he thought he'd never see again. After letting it all sink in for a moment or so, he sat up, tearing the sheets off of him as he tried to give an explanation to the sense of deja-vu this place gave him. He stood himself up, and paced what few square-feet were available, a throbbing head-ache haltering the inspection of his surroundings.

It didn't take long for lightning to strike his brain. It was his angel's room. How he had forgotten for even a second was beyond him. As soon as a reminiscent smile made its way to his lips, it was immediately shot down by his foreboding guilt. He felt dirty as the severity of a certain arrangement loomed over his head.

He twisted his neck towards the left and found a pair of golden eyes glaring back at him. The eyes were his own. He was staring at a five foot long mirror, littered with pictures of a mother and the occasional shot of a good friend. He couldn't help but notice an absence of any photo featuring himself.

His reflection had changed quite a bit since the last time he had seen it. On his body were countless scars, some still fresh. Many held painful memories of deception or devastation, while others were utter mysteries, leaving his imagination to guess what unspeakable experience had given them to him. It wasn't much fun looking in a mirror and not completely recognizing the face staring back at you.

He watched his own eyes carefully for a moment. They were a gold that he found to be an ugly color, piercing and haunting any poor soul they happened to fall upon. He turned away in disgust. There once was a time when they had been beautiful, able to charm just about anyone. But not anymore. They were dark, weak, and appalling. He did not like the imitation of dignity they were trying to emit.

Just past the mirror stood the door. Just past the door were the stairs. Just down the stairs were the kitchen and the livingroom. There would sit Aeris, waiting on the edge of her chair to see his face. She would wrap her arms around him, and yet again he would feel his heart melt as he starred into her deep green eyes. He knew it. 

But what would she do when she saw the shame in his eyes? What would she think when she saw the shadows in his soul? Could she ever forgive himself for all the wrongs he could never right? Could anyone?

He felt an unpleasant numbness shake his body as unanswerable questions plagued his brain. He had to sit down. One stride to his right and he found himself back at the edge of the bed, using one hand to steady himself before taking a seat. He longed for the days past when his nerves were made of steel and his mind was as sound as can be. Unceasing dread had stolen most of his once unfaltering strength of character, and he found himself nothing but a shell of what he had strived most of his days to become. Five years was apparently more than enough to destroy a lifetime. It didn't seem fair. 

A small coffer to his side caught his eye. He remembered that it was where Aeris kept her personal keep-sakes. He knew he shouldn't, but curiosity tickled his senses, and he soon found himself pawing somewhat distractedly through his angel's belongings, rummaging for whatever it was that was drawing him to the chest. 

It was a silver necklace that finally grabbed his attention, with a single pendant that looked like a two-dimensional, slightly curved-towards-the-right teardrop, made of pearl. At the larger end, in the middle, sat a miniature dark green crystal, and the whole thing was wrapped in a thin golden frame. A vague memory of a promise both kept and forgotten filled his head as he looked down at it, a chilling sort of emptiness in his eyes.

Hey Aeris, I've got a present for you...

  
  


***

  
  


Elmyra sat in her chair at the dinner table, calmly sipping a cup of tea, basking in the subtle elegance of her home. She had a good life, she decided. She was by no means rich, but she was comfortable. She had everything she needed. It was a very cozy rut she had dug herself. Today, however, she feared she would lose it all.

Thoughtlessly, she reached for the eggs and bacon seething atop the stove. It was his favourite breakfast, she remembered. She gazed up at the staircase that lead to the second level of her house. Any minute, a face she thought and even hoped she would never see again would come crashing down those steps. With him would come unlimited trouble and anguish. It was as if the two followed him wherever he went, as though he were some terrible black cat. She knew he didn't mean to cause her daughter all the pain that he had, but deep down, it was impossible for her not to still harbor resentment.

Honestly, she didn't even understand why she had taken him in when she had found him in Bill's little shack. She could have very easily just left him there to die, and she would never have to think about him again. She simply could have lived her life without ever mentioning it. Unfortunately, she wasn't that kind of person. She could have found Pr. Shin-Ra himself in that room, and she still probably would have tended to his wounds. Compassion was more of a weakness than an attribute these days.

Light, careful footsteps pierced the silence. She looked over her shoulder, and he was already standing in the middle of the room, freshly dressed in black clothes she had provided and his own blue cloak. He simply looked past her, searching for something- or more accurately, someone- that obviously wasn't there. Quietly, she sat back down at the table. "Good morning." She greeted almost haphazardly, sipping at her tea as she slid a plate to the seat opposite of her. "You hungry?"

Soundlessly, he sat down, absently picking at the meal as still he scrutinized the little room. 

"You really should eat." She told him after a moment or so of silence, lifting herself onto her feet and pouring another cup of tea, all the while stealing fleeting glances at him. "You're not well."

"I'm not hungry." He rebutted sternly. "Where's Aeris?" It was more of a rude demand than a question. He had never been all that subtle with her. Always right to the point.

She didn't answer, ignoring him as though she hadn't heard him over the crackling of the frying pan.

"Where is she?" He persisted impatiently, aggressive and anxious. 

"Why would I tell you?" She threw back, the frustration of seven years of disdain she held for this boy finally apparent, though well hidden by dignity. "Why should she know about you..."

"I need to see her..." He insisted standing to his feet, hardly managing to tolerate the old woman.

"What makes you think she ever wants to see you again?!" She barked at his stone cold face. "You think she's going to welcome you with open arms?! You left her without even saying goodbye! You broke her heart! You think I'm going to let you charge back into her life, just because five years latter you happen to fall into my lap?!"

"I don't have time for this..." He stated it monotonously with a shake of his head as he moved to bypass her. She cowered a bit staring into his eyes, but she hoped it hadn't shown. She immediately shut her mouth. "Tell me where she is..."

He looked different somehow. She supposed he didn't have the presence that he used to. He barely seemed alive anymore. The vividness in his eyes was gone. The colours on his face that had once made him seem so animated were faraway. He seemed horribly bleak. His pride, smile, and spirit were all shattered by something she knew she could never hope to understand. He was utterly corrupted, his heart poisoned with dismay and soaked in the weight of trauma. Admittedly, she hadn't realized who he was until a couple days ago. There was just something about him that made him seem like someone else. 

A somewhat awkward silence filled the place, each of them waiting for the other to say something. She was too timid to ask, and he was too reluctant to tell.

"Zack," She asked, her urge for knowledge finally reaching a boiling point. He looked up at her expectantly, his arms crossed. "Where have you been?"

He stared at her for a good long minute, trying to decide whether to tell her everything or nothing. "Hell." He finally answered, brief as it may be.

It might have been a joke had he said it half a decade ago, but Elmyra couldn't help but swallow the gravity in his words. She watched him watching her. His eyes were so urgent and tormented, despite his best efforts to hide it. She had never seen him look this way. It wasn't right. After all, this was Zack, wasn't it? He should have had an insensitive smirk on his face, not that horrible pain. 

It was depressing just to look at him. This wasn't Zack. It couldn't be. Zack had left her daughter for some street-corner hussy. Zack had abandoned Aeris once he had gotten what he wanted. Zack was a womanizer; nothing but a sleezebag. He hadn't tried to come back. He had never wanted to see Aeris again. He had no heart.

"Zack," Her careful voice once more pierced the silence. "Why didn't you come back?"

He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, looking to the floor somewhat shamefully and refusing her an answer.

"She waited a long time for you," she explained, tip-toeing through the emotional mine-field surrounding her. "But you just never came back..."

He said nothing for the longest time, only unconsciously glaring at his boots. She played the story she had told herself and everyone over for the thousandth time in her head. Lies. Looking at him now, she realized that none of what she had made herself believe was true. Nothing but lies. 

Elmyra watched, an air of restrained surprise as she observed Zack nearly throw himself back onto his feet, storming out of her home with a furious frown on his face. She knew that he could tell she wasn't going to be honest with him. He had always been a human lie-detector. She felt guilt rain down on her as she saw the obvious aggravation in his eyes. But she simply couldn't bring herself to welcome him back into her life.

  
  


***

  
  


Zack rather juvenilely kicked a cloud of dirt into the air as he stood outside his angel's front door, rage and disbelief boiling his blood to a fevered pitch. His temper had worn thin in the past years, and he was no longer one to waist time when he wanted something. When people would get in his way, he would simply shove them out of it, literally or figuratively. He hadn"t the patience for them anymore. 

"Hey mister," A mouse-like voice squeaked from somewhere below him "You okay?"

He looked down to his left, and found this little girl, staring up at him unabashedly with big, starry blue eyes. 

She couldn't have been much older than 5 or 6 years old. Her hair was shoulder-length and a dark brown, a very conservative style that a fretful father probably would have decided on. She wore a simple white shirt under a purple pair of overalls, cut and sewn at the knees to form a skirt. She was a cute kid, and as he assessed by the dirt on her clothes, she had probably been playing in the yard.

"I'm fine." he answered briskly, an unintentional twinge of sharpness to his voice as he rubbed at his eyes with the palm of a black glove. 

"Are you sure?" The girl giggled softly as she leaned down a bit as to look up at his face. "You don't look so happy. Here," She handed him a yellow rose. "Let a flower brighten up your day." She smiled sweetly as he kneeled down to accept the gift.

"Thanks." He said politely. He couldn't stop himself from grinning back at the girl. It had been a long time since he had been met with anything but hostility, and the stranger's yet-to-be-jaded innocense was refreshing. As far as he was concerned, prejudice and mistrust were things that came with age. "I'm afraid I don't know you. What's your name?"

"Marlene." She answered with a darling curtsey.

"That's a nice name." He extended a hand and she shook it firmly with her own "I'm Zack. How did you get here, Marlene?"

"The Flower Lady brought me here when my daddy said there was going to be trouble." She answered as she skipped off back into a batch of flowers, and plopped right down in the middle. "Now I live here with auntie Elmyra."

He followed her until he reached the tip of the patch. He didn't want to trample over what his angel had worked so hard on. He let his gaze span around the entire garden. It was a sea of comforting yellows, whites, pinks and greens, all living off the sunlight from a convenient hole in the dome-like upper plate. How something this natural and beautiful could exist in the dead soil of Midgar was still beyond him. He supposed Aeris just had a magical touch.

Carefully tip-toeing around the picture-perfect flora, he sat down in a small clearing next to the little girl. "How long have you been here?" He asked, indirectly gathering important information from her.

"Twelve-and-a-half days." She answered, plucking the pedals from a silky daffodil. 

"How long have I been here?"

"You've been here for six days, silly." She giggled again. "You came back with auntie after she went to get Bill's stuff."

Bill? The name sounded familiar.

"Who's Bill?" He asked yet another question, a hint of worry slipping into his voice.

"He's your friend." She kind of looked at him as though he were playing a game. "He was the one taking care of you when you were hurt."

"Really?" Zack mentally recorded that little note. He'd have to thank the man "Where is he now?"

"Auntie Elmyra said he's gone to the Lifestream..." There was a bit of sorrow as she absently fingered the empty stem. She knew very well what that little phrase meant. It was where her mother had gone.

"These flowers sure are beautiful." Zack swiftly tried to move away from the subject. Death was not something he wanted to discuss with such a young child. "Do you know where the lady who made these is? I wouldn't mind knowing how to grow daffodils." 

"She left with the SOLDIER guy." No longer amused by the daffodil, she reached for a richly coloured rose. "She said she wasn't going to be back for a long time."

Zack did his best to hide the slight twitch of his eyebrow. "What did he look like?"

"Oh! You should have seen him!" Marlene excitedly threw the flower aside so that she could use her hands for emphasis. "He had the BIGGEST sword I've EVER seen! And he had WICKED blonde hair and REALLY pretty eyes. They were a lot like yours, but blue."

Cloud. "Thanks." He said as he lifted himself to his feet, and walked towards the gate that separated this haven from the rest of the world.

"Hey!" Marlene shot herself back up, pouting and putting her hands on her hips. "Where are you going?"

"I've got a favor to repay." He called over his shoulder, not slowing for a second. "Oh, and by the way, tell your aunt 'sorry' for me." 


	6. A Killer's Instinct

Chapter 5: A killer's instinct

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Aww, man you should have seen the look on the guy's face!" An excited, red mo-hawked young man bounced up and down, his hands clenched proudly. "He was all like 'Please don't kill me man' and shit and I was just like 'courtesy of Evan' and stuff and I blew his fucking brains out! It was wicked!"

"Take it easy, junior. He's not lying, is he?" A man with probably close to a couple dozen piercings on his face asked off to the side.

The overzealous boy's stoic companion simply nodded his head in conformation.

"Well I guess that's that." The indifferent black haired man shrugged. "You've passed initiation. Welcome to 'Golden Greats', Don Corneo's infamous gang. Enjoy the benefits." The man waved around him at the spacious, gold painted mansion of sinful pleasures that surrounded him.

A distant ring of a bell cut the pair's celebration down to a brief cheer. "Would you get that?" The senior official asked his two latest inductees. "We do have work to do here, after all."

Broad smiles on their faces, the two latest members of 'Golden Greats' walked to the only customer services desk offered by the 'legitimate business', which all knew was nothing more than a high-class whore-house. At the opposite end, they found a man dressed for the most part in black, with a blue cloak pulled over his shoulders. He was looking off in the opposite direction, hands resting disapprovingly on his hips, an air of disinterest for the fleshy fun the mansion offered.

"What'll it be?" The more vocal of the two asked gleefully.

The long, black-haired man turned to face them, hood pulled over his head and casting shadows on his face. "You wouldn't happen to know a guy by the name of Bill, would you?" He asked, golden eyes clearly gleaming, despite the negation of any light daring to shine on them.

  
  


***

  
  


He wandered the hazardous slums of Sector Seven all on his own, bored out of his mind as he searched desperately for an adequate distraction from his exhausting personal life. SOLDIER encouraged an active life-style outside of the program in an attempt to maintain their public image as functional members of society. Basically, this meant they were forced to attend ritzy soirés and snobbish cocktail parties. He had just snuck out not more than half an hour ago from a sleep educing play by the name of 'Loveless'. Sarcastically, he cursed the farm boy in his blood. 

He stopped in the middle of the street, and sighed heavily. Sick of his idleness, he momentarily considered stirring up some trouble, but alas he knew all too well that it was against regulations. The last thing he wanted was that damn Commander Taggart breathing down his neck. The guy was an utter jackass that was seemingly bred to humiliate new recruits with his harsh cruelty and bountiful smugness. Unfortunately, the man known not-so-affectionately as 'The Innovator of Violence' had demonstrated time and time again that it was for good reason that his pride remained unscathed.

He absently let himself lean back against an anonymous object, begging for some action to whatever other-worldly being was listening. He turned his head to get a look at his resting spot, finding a freakish slide, sculpted in the image of a white-furred bear known as the moogle, a popular children's t.v. character. This particular slide seemed to be modeled after an oafish, prehistoric saber-toothed cave variation. Little kids had the strangest ideas of what was cute...

He heard a woman's scream echo from an alley. He looked up at the mechanical imitation of sky above, surprised with the hastiness of the answer to his prayers. With an acceptant shrug, he kicked himself off the beastly piece of children's play equipment, and dashed in almost giddily to make the save. He smiled to himself. Spontaneity was always so much fun.

He made his way to an opening within the endless piles of scrap metal this particular sector happened to have. Gazing in at the scuffle from where he could not be seen, he observed two middle-aged men accosting a girl who was probably only sixteen years old. 

She was the picture-perfect victim. Her eyes were green, much like the leaves of a well nourished tree. If her eyes were the leaves, her hair would have been the trunk, chestnut coloured and wound into a tight braid. Definitely a pretty girl, she was rather thin with a somewhat pale complexion, which was probably thanks to the lack of sunlight in the slums. Dressed in pink and red from head to toe, she looked close to a girl concocted in some sort of children's story. He grinned mischievously. He had no objection to being the valiant knight.

"Now that's just not polite, is it?" His mocking voice was more than enough to grab anyone's attention. As the two men turned to face him, he stepped out of his hiding place, a sly sort of cockiness in every move he made, for he absolutely reveled in the way he toyed with them. "Bullying a poor girl like this. That's simply not very nice." He paused for a moment, a fake remorse weighing down his face as he tilted backwards on his heels, withdrawing his hands from his pockets. "It appears as though I'm going to have to kick your asses. Sorry guys." He gave them each a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Excuse me?" One of the two men menacingly stepped within one inch of his face. The black haired joker hadn't realized how big these two thugs were until the tip of the man's long grey beard tickled his forehead. Not that size mattered. He had always considered skill the more important factor...in a fight.

"Well unless I've completely misread the scenario," He explained to his soon-to-be paperwork. "It looks like you two are assaulting this stunning young lady. I suppose there's the off chance that she instigated all this and that she's actually just kinky as hell," The girl raised an offended/confused eyebrow at her unorthodox savior. " but you two don't really seem like the role playing type. I, however, very much am." He looked from side to side, and waved them in closer as though he were going to tell them a secret. "You know what my favorite type of character is?" 

He swiftly thrust his foot into the closer of the two's gut, and using the man's protruding belly as a lift, launched himself upwards and kicked the other across the head, only to adjust himself once more in mid-air to mercilessly crush a boot into the face of the earlier man, all before landing perfectly on his feet. He calmly dusted himself off as his opponents fell to the ground like two massive bags of bricks, unconscious. "I like being the hero." He said to his comatose clowns. 

"Well that was a lot of fun." He chuckled casually, taking one big step over one of their fat bellies as he walked towards the pretty young lady which he imagined owed him much gratitude, a humourous smirk on his lips. "Any idea why these guys were bugging you, angel?" He asked politely Other than the obvious...he added to himself as he looked her up and down.

"They're always bugging me..." She told him, gathering a capsized basket of flowers at her feet into her arms. 

Flowers?! He thought, suppressing a laugh. You have got to be kidding me. How much cuter could she possibly get? Classic fairy tale princess...

"I was just going to the wall market to get my mom some medicine, because she's been sick lately..." The girl continued, aggravated with the events that lead up until this moment. 

Okay, now this is getting ridiculous... 

"...and these jerks just started harassing me!"Anger filled her voice, and he assumed it was a good time to feign mutual horror. "I didn't even do anything! Can you believe it?!"

"Yes." He abruptly answered her rhetorical question, cutting her off. "I mean look at you." He smiled, and gave a complimenting gesture with his hands "The way you're dressed, you look pretty easy..."

He hadn't realized the misinterpretation of his words until he saw the outrage on her face and felt the sting of her hand slapping his cheek.

"That's not what I meant..." He apologized, relocating his jaw with one hand back to its original and natural position. "What I was trying to say is you look like an easy target. All that pink is a little much." He again waved at her figure, and she looked herself over, seeing nothing wrong. "Honestly, you look like you were scientifically engineered to be a damsel in distress."

Again, he saw the fury in her eyes, and again, she slapped him.

"Okay," he began anew, rubbing his now sore lip. "I'm obviously not very good at this, so I'm going to move away from this subject entirely. I'll leave it at you look pretty, alright?" Reluctantly, she nodded her head. "Let's just start over. My name's Zack, and if I say anything rude, give me a hint before you decide to slap the taste out of my mouth." He smiled genuinely and extended a hand to her. She looked at it for a second, but she didn't shake it. "Fine then." He retracted it and placed it into his pocket. "Can I ask your name without having to seek medical attention?"

She eyed him curiously for a moment, frowning just a little as she decided he meant well "I'm Aeris." She told him, wearily folding her arms. 

"Well Aeris," He said as he took a step back. "A pretty gal like yourself shouldn't wander the streets all by herself. I would offer to escort you to the Wall Market, but frankly, you scare me." He saw her finally crack a smile. Success!!! "I will help you, though, as long as you promise to stop hitting me."

"No thanks," she rejected him sweetly, and stepped up close to him. He noticed she smelt wonderful. Like some intoxicating rose. He would have blushed, had his cheek not already been red and sore. "I'm very much capable of making it there on my own. I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't think I'd be able to stop myself from beating you up some more."

Was she joking with him? Hooray for progress. "Well, then I won't bother you. Good night, and try to stay out of trouble. " Graciously, he bowed and moved aside. She smiled at him again, and went back along her way. His eyes followed her until she was gone, a good humored grin on his lips. After what seemed like an hour, frozen in place, he finally made his way home.

*** 

  
  


He sat atop an old milestone of his life, staring indifferently at the crushed sector where he had once lived. From the wreckage still rose fresh smoke, tainted with the fowl scent of rotting flesh. Trapped deep under the debris, he could sense the occasional glimmer of life. He knew that there must have been at least a dozen survivors, deeply entombed under hundreds of thousands of pounds of steel and iron, grasping desperately onto the vague hope that someone was coming to save them. But there was no one to answer their pleas. Only Zack, who simply inhaled and exhaled as he silently pitied those not lucky enough to simply have died quickly and painlessly.

"Good to know you haven't lost your killer's instinct." A familiar and appalling voice rang gently in his ear "I had gotten a bit worried there for a second."

"Go away." He warned his former comrade, burying his shameful head in his knees. 

"They didn't even stand a chance." The man laughed light-heartedly, his hands in his pockets as he paced around his pet project. "You killed them like they were nothing but sheep. But I suppose revenge is a dish served best cold, isn't it?"

"It wasn't revenge." He told the incessantly probing voice, whose embodiment he refused to see. "I was only avenging-"

"Revenge, avenge," The devilish man chuckled, cutting him off and perching himself right at Zack's ear. "It all stems from 'vengeance', does it not? One just sounds nobler than the other." He finished the sentence in an accusing whisper.

"What is it you want from me?" He asked calmly, rocking back and forth just a bit.

"Adam, Adam, Adam." He patiently grabbed Zack's chin, and made him to look into those perverted green eyes of his. "I want only to make you happy..."

"Bullshit." He sneered at the blatant lie, and nearly brought himself to spit in the man's face.

"I kid you not." The man hoped from his position back down to the unfertile ground. "I'm sick of seeing you brood like this. Isn't it time you returned to your thrown?"

"I never had a thrown." He hissed, bitter venom in each word. "I had a life, but never a thrown..."

"Apparently," The man made a big exaggerated sigh "you've forgotten more than I imagined. Do you even remember who you are, Adam?"

"I remember that that's not my name..." He shuddered just a bit atop his seat, his voice timid but strong. "I'm Zack. Always have been, always will be."

"Well you're definitely not Zack anymore." He materialized in front of his friend's face, playfully tilting his head at him. "he's been dead since that morning he was left bleeding in the fields. Hell, look at yourself." He gestured at his shaky body. "Even you know that you're not who you used to be. Face it man, you're Adam, as much as you may not want to be."

"That's not my name!!!" He forcefully grabbed the emerald eyed demon by the collar, and drove both his feet into the man's abdomen with all his strength, rocketing his target backwards onto the faraway soil. He immediately leapt from his pedestal, landing atop the monster, who was only laughing. "I'm Zack, dammit!" His rage filled eyes fiery, he once more grabbed the man's black leather collar and drove him back into the ground with intention to kill.

"You remember so little..." His ungodly laugh only grew louder and louder.

"Shut the fuck up!!!" Zack drew back his fist to destroy that horrible smile, but as it hurtled to the ground, all that he found was empty space.

"One day," A voice called tauntingly from behind him. He turned to find the entity of his hatred, standing atop a large, white moogle slide with his arms folded and his long silver hair dangling past his hips. "when you are smart enough to listen to me, you will see what you are, and what must be done. Until then," He was no longer smiling, but instead his face was etched in stony seriousness. "Make your way to Junon. You'll find everything you claim you're looking for there."

"Aeris?" His voice trembled as he sat on his knees, yet to arise from his previous bloodlust.

"Yes, yes." He impatiently waved the notion of love away. "And the blonde one too. But be warned," The man raised a heading finger "In the life of a freak, you can never know what to expect." 

Zack stood to his feet, a profanity on the tip of his lips when a flash of cold dark light erupted atop the slide, only leaving black feathers slowly descending towards the ground in the absence of the black and silver clad man.

He simply watched the bizarre shards of the beast for a moment, pondering the monster's riddle. Finally, he frowned to himself, and took one last look at the industrial side effect known as the slums of Sector Seven. They had been so kind to him once, but now the ocean of shrapnel and mangled, useless machinery struck him as uninviting. Wordlessly, he headed south, thankful yet apprehensive that he finally had a path to follow. 

  
  
  
  



	7. Broken Wings

Chapter 6: Broken wings

  
  
  
  


Adam walked without thinking, a blank expression of disbelief seemingly chizzled onto his colourless face as he tried to comprehend the blatant truth. His mouth hung open and his bottom lip trembled with every breath he took. His eyes were horribly bleak, red and blurry with tears. In this distorted reality called life, he was absent, somewhere far off where no offers of joy or pity could possibly reach him. He had not long ago abandoned such lies.

In his arms, he carried his angel. The skin on her limp body was a chalk white, pale and soft. Her emerald green eyes were open wide, empty as they stared out in horror at nothing in particular. Her fine brown hair was damp and matted to her head, unattended to for what looked like days. She was cold to the touch and her lip was a bit blue. She would have looked to be more colourless than even Adam, if not for the dark red blemishes on her face and a tattered gown that had once been so pretty.

He stood alone in a crowd, simply watching her regretfully, like a child who had foolishly broken his favourite toy. He held her debris selfishly, praying to anyone listening for her to be fixed. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't be beyond repair. They owed him this much. He had given them all that he could, they couldn't steal from him like this.

"Please help her." He begged of the first man to pass him, who only gazed at him uncertainly, and walked away muttering under his breath. 

"Please help her." He repeated to the next bystander, who imitated the first.

The circle continued forever, and with each indignation Adam's frustration grew. Why did they ignore him? Couldn't they see his angel needed to be fixed? Didn't they appreciate everything he had done? Weren't they indebted to him? With all he had done, he didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve it. She was innocent, never harmed a soul, and she was gone. Never to laugh, never to feel, never to touch, never to see the colours of life ever again. Only to stare with those defunct eyes at the world that destroyed her. 

He fell to his knees, and watched her for hours, not the smallest movement between the two of them. The fire inside her that had lit her up and made her smile had been extinguished. Hard to believe back then that anything could have taken her beauty away from her, but here he stood corrected. She was dead now. Someone must have been very happy to see him look so stupid as to think she'd be perfect forever.

He swallowed his tears with a new sensation. It surged through his veins, tingled in his every pore, and put a redness back into his cheeks. It made him stand to his feet, it made him clench his fists, it made his heart pump and it made him strong. This was something new. He let out a furious scream as the nameless emotion clouded his brain, engulfing his once blue eyes in bright yellow fire.

A crime had been committed, and no one was willing to right it. He gave himself the title of judge and envisioned the only true justice. He wouldn't discriminate, he would be fair in distributing the punishment, and there would be no room for wrongs to be made in the future. The world would simply have to bleed.

  
  


*** 

  
  


"Hey Spike, wake up!" He banged his fist loudly on the door. "Come on, I know you're in there." Zack frowned as he waited impatiently for an answer. "Fine." He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "Be a hermit. I don't know why I even bother with you, kid. Goodbye."

He was beginning to make his way back down the brightly lit white halls of the Shin-Ra barracks when his comrade opened the door. "What do you want?" He asked unabashedly, tossing back his disobedient blonde hair, annoyed with the friendly man. 

"Reno and I were wondering if you'd like to come along on a mission of ours." Zack told him, a proud smile on his face, looking as though he had just offered Cloud a wonderful gift. "It's a pretty easy one: just have to hunt down this escaped specimen and bring it back to the lab. Reno would take care of the tracking, I would chase it down, and you would sit and watch. I admit it'd be pretty boring for your part, but it might do you some good to have your name on a first-class mission report. What do you say, little buddy?"

An abrupt "No thanks." was the only answer Zack got before having a door closed in his face. He sighed for a moment, shaking his head, and then once more knocked on the door.

"Hello?" Cloud opened the door rather quickly, disappointed when he saw Zack still standing in front of it. 

"Why won't you let me help you?" Zack asked, his arms folded. He looked very much prepared to wait quite a while.

"I don't need it." Cloud spat, and went to close his door when he found Zack's much more powerful arm preventing it.

"I'm telling you this as a friend: yes you do." Zack told him brashly. "Face it Cloud, you're not good enough do this on your own. If you don't accept the occasional helping hand, you're going to get eaten alive. I know you want to be a self-made hero like 'The Great Sephiroth' and all that crap, but it's not gonna happen." The last two words had a sharp taste of venom, and Cloud was forced to turn away as he looked up at the sincerity of his colleague. "As harsh as that sounds," He looked him straight in the eye for a second "it's true." 

Cloud simply stared at him fuming for a moment, pondering whether or not he should punch this brute square across the jaw. "Goodnight, Zack." Cloud told him bitterly, and abruptly slammed the door shut.

Zack stood there for a minute or so, disappointed with the foolish trainee.

"No such luck, huh?" A voice asked him sympathetically.

"I don't know how to help this kid." Zack turned to face the man behind the voice, shaking his head. "He's too proud to realize he's not SOLDIER material."

"Say it straight, dude." Reno smirked, flicking a cigarette carelessly to the ground. "He's too egotistical to see how crappy he is, and everybody thinks he's a jerk because of it. You've gotta be a saint to think you can deal with that kid."

Zack chuckled at the absurd thought, and gave a pat to his good friend on the shoulder. Reno was about the same height as Zack, but not quite as built. He had blazing green eyes and fiery red hair spilling over his forehead, tied into a ponytail on the back. Complete with a cigarette hanging from the bottom lip of his permanently mischievous smile, there had never lived a more appropriate poster-boy for trouble.

"So what's on the agenda tonight?" Zack asked, considerably cheered up.

Reno extracted a small black book from his pocket, licked his index finger and flipped a few pages. "Well let's see here...Mission, Booze, Booze, and then, more Booze. And guess what? It's your turn to buy." Reno laughed rather cruelly as a sarcastic look of horror washed across Zack's face.

"I don't know if I have enough money left in my account for this..." Zack grinned in anticipation of the night. "...but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna drink you under the table." 

***

  
  


Junon was the most self-contradicting town ever to successfully exist. Nowhere else than this small/big city could two worlds blend so meticulously. The first of the two districts was a homely little port, supported by a somewhat exhausted fishing industry. Bogged down in constant rain, it was almost depressing simply being there, but most were easily uplifted by the friendly down-to-earth nature of its people. The only thing even the slightest bit modern in the cozy district was a towering multi-story elevator, that carried its passengers many steps up the social ladder and into the second district.

Zack stood directly in the middle of the mundane assortment of houses, staring up at the ever-present grey sky, wondering how long it would take a bolt of lightening to strike his sinful body dead to the earth. The heading boom of thunder answered him nearly on cue, and he decided it would be best to start moving.

He watched with mild interest as the villagers worked, oblivious to his presence. Like a ghost he wandered through the small gravel streets, passing unseen and unheard, despite the crunching under his feet. He didn't mind. These were small-town folk of good moral fiber. He preferred to avoid having to have a conversation with them. They would scrutinize him with an untrusting eye, and they would find something black that would stir something horribly unpleasant deep inside them. And for good cause.

Instead he simply stared out at the sea, contemplating his next move with the sharpness of a SOLDIER as he leant over the edge of a rocky cliff, gripping a railing with both hands. If the silver-haired demon had indeed been telling the truth, his angel shouldn't be too far away. If she was only with Spike, then he could get to her fairly easily once he had tracked the two. Of course he would have to factor in an unforseen obstacle or two, as something was bound to go wrong. Spike may be traveling in a pack, wherever he was going, which would make it a bit harder to single him out for the kill. Also, met face to face, he might use 'Ris as a hostage, which could complicate things. 

Then of course there was himself. Any number of things could go awry given his present condition. He was cool and collected now, able to think things through, but he may not be psychologically stable when the time came. The voices...the nagging... he was certainly not reliable enough to follow a plan that needed such care. He didn't want to scare her away...

In the distance, he noticed a black speck in the water. Nothing more than a small dot, seemingly insignificant, but still it worried him for some reason. He squinted, looking closer, and slowly the dot became a minuscule shape. He looked closer still, and the shape became a person, or more specifically, a little girl, face-down in the water. A lump gathered in his throat as the realization of the situation promptly smashed into his brain like a brick.

Frantically yet readily, he tossed his legs over the railing, dropping a few dozen feet or so before landing on the distant sand with hardly a thud. He sprinted in for the save, not bothering to guess whether the girl was still alive or not. He dove head first into the water and swam with the speed of a possessed dolphin. After several mad strokes, he grabbed the girl, and immediately began to pull her back to shore, the water splashing into his subdued face. He was frightened for the girl, of course, but this wasn't exactly something he was inexperienced with.

He laid her on her back upon reaching safe ground, and took a quick glance at the child. She was very young and pretty, probably about eight years old. Her dark brown hair rest matted upon her head, spilling past her tiny shoulders and about halfway down her back. Her skin was a pale white and her body was small and a bit skinny. Her face was cute and round, with thin little lips, a slight shade of blue to them. She would have been beautiful when she grew up, but now...

He quickly checked for a pulse, which was absent. He tried futilely to revive her with a couple of well placed thrusts on her chest. Hope fading and reality settling in, he moved in for the girl's last chance. He shut her nostrils between his thumb and fore-finger, and breathed into her, still pushing against her chest with the other hand. Nothing. He tried once more. Still nothing. His pace grew quicker, trying his best to save the girl with hardly any luck. 

On his fifth attempt, he felt a reaction. He would have declared the slight change a god-given success, but there was something a little off. It felt like she was sucking on his breath, taking it straight out of him. He felt a searing burning in his throat and a numbness overcoming his body, but the girl would not let him break free from her mouth. When he finally managed to escape, the burning and the numbness disappeared, replaced by a crippling cold. 

He fell backwards, unable to stand as he trembled uncontrollably. The girl put her hands to her side and sat up, still pale, still wet, still blue. She opened her eyes, blinking curiously a couple of times at the new world around her. She turned her head, and noticed Zack, writhing painfully on the sand. She stood up to her feet, and walked over to him, looking down at him like he was something fascinating she had found in the forest. He stared up into her shiny innocent violet eyes, and she smiled warmly at him.

"I missed you so much!" She yelped, throwing her arms around his abdomen and sobbing into his chest. He sat up, a little bit startled, carefully slipping away from the dangerous little girl. She simply stared at him, her eyes wet and hurt.

"Who are you?" Zack demanded gruffly, back against the stone cliff, unnerved.

She simply continued to stare at him, pity and sorrow too deep to be felt for such a small girl on her face. "We know how awful it must have been," the girl told him, a compassionate smile making its way to her lips. "We know how much it hurt when we had to leave, but it's not your fault."

Zack could only watch the little girl, her warm voice calming him slightly, and making him ache. He didn't recognize her, but it hurt deeply when she spoke to him.

"We want you to know that we love you, and we wish you didn't have to feel so sad." She had to do her best to keep from bursting into tears, as did Zack while he listened. "Mommy says she's so sorry for all the terrible pain she's caused you, not being here beside you anymore..." She paused for a long second. "I know how hard you tried to forget, because it was just too unbearable being here without her." Her last words were forcefully choked out from her suppressed sobs. "We still need you, daddy. You don't understand this, but you've got to remember..." The girl stared at him for one last moment, before whispering shakily. "We're so sorry..."

Slowly, she began to fade into nothingness, that insufferable despondent look still on her face. Zack couldn't stand it any longer, he began to weep for the beautiful little girl. "No! Don't go!" He screamed despairingly, pushing himself off his rear and diving for the girl. He wrapped his arms around her tiny little body in a tight embrace, and she apologetically buried her head into his chest. "Please don't leave me..." He pleaded, but still she turned to air. Finally, she was gone, and he collapsed to the ground, blubbering into his empty arms. 

"Hey sir, are you okay?" A voice called after him from above. "You kind of just freaked out the whole town, what's the matter?"

Zack forced himself to face the concerned elderly man, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. "I'm fine." He told him abruptly, confused at what he had just felt.

The man sort of stared at him skeptically, frowned, shrugged in acceptance, and finally walked away. 

Zack stood to his feet without another word, dusting himself off. He took one last longing glance at the spot on the sand where the girl stood, trying to understand what had made him snap, and once more went back on his way, digging through the recesses of his mind for how he knew the beautiful child, and a reason for why he felt so miserable now that she was gone...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Gray

Chapter 7: Gray

  
  
  
  


"Hey Aeris, I've got a present for you." 

Adam sat atop a rock near the ocean, staring at the small, white piece of jewelry resting on the palm of his hand, his face unflinching and indifferent, lost in thought. 

"What is it?"

From under his collar, he withdrew a similar stone, attached to a necklace. He tugged at it, pulling it over his head and letting it dangle just in front of his face. Black and looking to be an opposite of the pearl in his other hand, the two pieces bonded meticulously into the shape of a perfect circle when he clicked them together.

"It's a yin-yang. Here. You hold onto one half, I'll take the other, and we'll keep them around our necks. This way, for as long as we wear them, we'll know that we're both one half of something bigger and better.

He had found the sister jewel to his own in his angel's room, buried in the depths of her belongings, forgotten.

"Isn't that a little sappy for a SOLDIER? I thought you guys were supposed to be tough."

He swung both of the laces around his neck, and stared out at the endless blue ocean, concentrating on the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, ignoring the triumphant marching beat of the celebration above, his face lazy and soft.

"Nah. Everybody needs something to fight for. You just happen to be that little thing that keeps me going, 'Rissy. That's why I got this little memento. When things get their darkest, I'll just look down at it and remember that I'm part of something more important, and that I need to get back to my other half as fast as I can. No matter what."

Today was the day he would get his chance. Today was the day he would fix everything. Today was going to be perfect.

"Is that a promise?"

Little drops of rain fell from above as he sat atop his rock, cleansing his dirty face.

"Of course it's a promise! Why wouldn't it be?"

Dock Seventeen. The two words kept repeating themselves inside his head, whispered in by something unseen.

He stood to his feet and stared at the ocean in front of him, the wind whipping against his body. He would make it up to her. All that he had done didn't matter, this was his chance at redemption.

"...Rissy? What's wrong?"

He looked up to the dark gray sky, past the clouds and at the pale sun, cold resolve in his hopeful soul. He stood to his feet, the rain dripping down onto his face as his eyes stayed fixed upwards. It was time to go. 

"Aeris?" 

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


Cloud stood upon the deck of the number seventeen Shin-Ra class transport, his arms folded and his wild blonde hair caught in the wind as he leant against a wall, calmly waiting out the ride. Across from him sat a pretty green-eyed girl, her elegant cheek resting on her thin hand, bored as she too waited. Her dark blue uniform hung off her skinny figure, and her long flowing chestnut hair was tucked under an ugly helmet. He grinned to himself. Even dressed in a baggy grunt garb, she was still beautiful. Noticing he was staring at her, she turned, met his eyes, waved and smiled warmly at him. He blushed and bowed his head, and she giggled sweetly. She could even make a SOLDIER melt.

Not far away stood a second girl, equally pretty but for some mysterious reason not quite as noticeable. She had long, dark, raven coloured hair and big brown eyes, that always seemed somewhat sad and far away. She had the sort of figure that men drooled over: toned, hard and ideally shaped. All guys declared her a 'hotty', and competed futilely for the chance to share a night with her, never realizing that she wasn't that kind of a girl. Men would lust after her, but they would never truly be in love with her. No, men always fell in love with someone that they had never thought of as an object, someone like Aeris. The charming, perfect little innocent girl next-door was the sort of woman for whom love was reserved. So, lately she watched the young, sweet flower girl with an envy that made her heart-ache, and she suddenly found herself wishing to be less of a hot chick and more of a beautiful woman.

"Fuck!" A big burly dark skinned man nearly shouted, knocking Tifa out of her momentary trance. "Come on Teef, they're so close! You tellin' me I can't do nothin'?!"

"It would jeopardize every single one of us if we tried to assassinate him here." The girl told him, distracted and impatient. "We're in his territory, we're outnumbered, and we're on a boat in the middle of the ocean. If we kill him, how do you expect to make a getaway? Jump in the water and swim? The sea has as a good a chance of killing us as the half-dozen SOLDIERs that'll be swinging at our heads. We can't risk being seen. That means no funny stuff," Her voice became softer and more sympathetic with the brawny man, lifting his chin so he'd look her in the eye. "okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." He brushed her hand aside, turned his back to her, crossed his arms and rather uncharacteristically began to pout. "I know you're right Teef, but those Shin-Ra bastards..."

"I know, I know." Tifa stopped him short, reminiscing briefly until an alarm broke her daydreaming like a brick falling through glass.

"Emergency alert!" An exasperated voice came over the intercom as a siren sounded loudly. "Reports of a suspicious character found! Those not on detail, search the ship. Report when found!" 

"Shit! They found us?!" Barret whispered anxiously.

"I don't think so..." Tifa eased him, looking across the deck at Cloud and Aeris who were equally confused. "That alarm doesn't sound like it'd be us."

"I repeat. Suspicious character found on board! Those not on detail, search the ship. Report when found!"

"I think we need to get moving." She told her comrade, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a sprint across the deck

"Is everyone okay?" Cloud conferred with the group as they each pulled off their dark blue disguises. "Where's Yuffie?"

A four legged red skinned creature pointed his snout off to the side at a young girl who was vomiting over the side of a nearby guard-rail.

"Fine." Cloud sighed as he decided to continue despite the girl's nausea. "Who did they catch?"

Each member confirmed no wrong doing amongst themselves

"It doesn't matter." Cloud decided quickly "We have to find a way off this ship and fast. We can't risk getting captured."

"I don't think it's us they're after..." Aeris pointed a finger as she saw a trio of armed grunts make their way down a flight of stairs and under the deck.

"Well who the fuck else is there?!" Barret shimmed in loudly.

"Sephiroth..." Cloud muttered as he bowed his head, and all eyes immediately turned to him. "He's here...I can feel his presence..."

An abrupt hush fell upon the small group of freedom fighters as they each exchanged worried and frightful glances.

"We move quickly..." Cloud began anew, his voice sharp as steel and his eyes filled with a cold determination as he pulled the infamous Buster Sword out from its holster. "Nothing fancy, just go for the kill." 

Slowly, each member of AVALANCHE nodded their heads, and without a word escaping their mouths among the millions traveling through their heads, they were on their way.

  
  


*** 

  
  
  
  


He made his way through the streets and the huddled masses, ignoring all the cheer around him as the people rejoiced for their new king. They had so much hope for the young heir, who accepted his new position as graciously as could be expected. A fake plastic smile plastered on his face, few could guess the incredible industrialization he envisioned behind that artificial look of gratitude and modesty.

Zack stopped for a moment to gaze at the new Pr. Shin-Ra. The ignorant audience was like putty in his hand as he made insincere promises of improved economy and safer cities. Zack could have struck him down there and then had he not more pressing matters. Instead, he simply put it on his always lengthening 'to do' list. Everyday it seemed like he found something new he felt he should fix. But of course, there was one thing that had priority, and it needed to be dealt with sooner rather than latter. 

He stared at the faded number seventeen on the side of a big gray tanker in the distance. It swayed back and forth as the waves crashed against its bulky hull, the light rain softly pelting at the impenetrable steel. He pressed on through the crowd, walking hastily as something unspoken drew him towards it. 

Finally, he stood there in front of it, dwarfed by its massive exterior. He scanned the hull for a ladder, assuming he was supposed to board the behemoth. He looked to the left, and found nothing. He looked to the right, and still found nothing. He sighed, his mind drawing a blank as he pondered his next move. He looked to his left once more, and there where not more than a moment ago sat nothing, stood the beautiful little girl, a detached look on her face.

Zack's entire body tightened just a bit as she watched him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as she stayed there frozen, her hands behind her back and her little violet eyes fixed on him like he was all that was there, yet still seeming somewhat distracted in the way they flickered. Neither dared speak a word.

"She really does miss you, you know." A calm factual voice told him from afar. "It's not fair that they took her away from you like that. Neither of you had done anything wrong. But that hardly ever matters to them, does it? They take what they want whenever they're able, regardless of the repercussions."

"Shut up." Zack hissed shakily as the silver haired demon stood at his side. "She's not there..." His body quaked just a bit as he tried to stay as still as possible, his eyes wetting as he unwillingly felt a mournful gnawing at his heart. "I don't know her...She doesn't exist..." He bowed his head and shut his eyes. "Get her away from me!" He finally screamed at the beast.

"Why do you refuse to feel?" The beast questioned curiously.

"She's not there...I don't know her...She doesn't exist..." He paced for a moment, repeating the words to himself and fidgeting as he kneeled and buried his head in his arms. "I shouldn't have to feel this...this thing! She's not there..."

It was an emotion quite a bit stronger than anger or discontent. It was painful and debilitating, draining his body of energy and hope. Needless to say, Zack was not complacent in feeling it, and did his best not to succumb to it. He wanted the flow of it through him gone, and the source of it to be nonexistent. 

"Grief is not so easily eluded." The man sighed, telling him simply "If you refuse to see and accept what's right in front of you, you will fall beyond anyone's reach. So goes life."

Zack groaned loudly and then roared at the little girl. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!?!" She cringed and cowered as he tossed himself to within a couple inches of her face. "What the hell gives you the right to make me feel this way?!?!"

"Daddy, stop..."

"TELL ME!!!"He grabbed the girl and shook her violently, as she bit back her pained tears. He stopped abruptly when he heard her sob, and she backed away in fear and deep pity as he simply fell onto his backside, confused and regretful with his fury. He shook his head in his hands as he grabbed two handfuls of hair, disgusted and frustrated with himself. "What are you trying to do to me..." He muttered, shaking his head in his hands as he rocked back and forth. "Why are you making me feel this..." 

"Because you need to." The beast kneeled down to stare him in the eye. "I've seen how you've turned your back to your responsibility and it's appalling." Zack shifted away uncomfortably, but the man forcefully grabbed his chin and pulled him back, face-to-face. "You don't want to see her face, but she still loves you, despite the fact that you wronged her. I don't care how badly it hurts, you WILL remember the mistakes you made, and you will fix them. For her." The man ended bitterly, tossing Zack's head backwards into the hull of the ship upon which he leant and simply walking away. 

"What do you expect me to do?!" Zack shot himself up and screamed at the beast who stopped to a halt. "Nothing I could do would ever make it up to her, so what the hell am I supposed to do?!" He sobbed as he fell back to the ground, staring down at his own shame as he simply broke down into hysterics "I failed! I wasn't there when she needed me, and I failed her! What can I do?!" The beast didn't answer him, instead simply disappearing in a flash of black. He changed his attention to the pained little girl. "Please..." He begged shakily "Tell me what I can do...please...I'll do anything..."

She simply stared at him, her innocent yet apologetic eyes locked on his own. The two were completely still for the longest time, dead silent. Regretfully, she shook her head, and began to fade into nothingness. He once more broke down, sobbing pathetically as he was again left alone in the universe to ponder what the hell was happening to him. 

Around him, the colours began to melt away. The yellows, the reds, and the oranges were all abandoning him. Gone was the vibrance. Gone was the sense of life in the world. All's that remained was a bleak, barren gray, that made everything seem generic and dead.

In front of him sat a long, thin blade, left behind by the beast. His face was stained with tears, his eyes were hollow and empty, oblivious now and forever to the pinks, the greens, the blues, to everything other than that empty gray. He took the sword in one hand, slowly rose to his feet, and boarded the ship.

  
  
  
  


***

"Abandon ship?!" The newly crowned Pr. Shin-Ra boomed at an intimidated officer from his luxurious quarters situated above the deck. 

Pr. Rufus Shin-Ra was a young man in his mid-twenties, who upon the death of his father, inherited the industrial kingdom that was Shin-Ra Inc. With his fiery orange hair and bright blue eyes, he was quite handsome, and he very well knew it. Despite his suave exterior, he was the ideal business man: cold, calculating, but above all ruthless. Only the uninformed questioned his ability to handle the presidency of the world's most powerful company. The smart knew that he was unquestionably the right man for the job. 

"T-Those were the captain's orders." The young boy mumbled nervously. "Please don't fire me, sir."

"You mean to tell me that one 'suspicious character' is going to make us abandon ship?" He nearly laughed despite his fury. "Just send a couple of SOLDIERs after him, he'll be dead within fifteen minutes."

"But sir, his sword..."

"What about his sword?" He thundered back at the boy.

"It's the same one that killed your father..."

Rufus Shin-Ra was not a man easily surprised. He had grown up as a child in a cold loveless world of greed and corruption, and as an adult he now ruled that world. He had done many dark and disturbing things for the sake of business, and all the while he had never even flinched. But when he had heard the useless officer mutter those few words, something about it had stopped him in his tracks. 

"Leave." Rufus told the boy very simply, who only stood there looking baffled "Now."

With a shaky nod of his head, the boy was off to tell the captain the President's response, or lack there of.

Rufus sighed, shook his head, and sat down on a plush velour couch, calmly brushing the wrinkles out of his expensive white suit. "What do you think we should do, Taggart?" Rufus asked his escort across the room, who until now had remained anonymous.

General Theodore Taggart was not the ideal image of a first-class SOLDIER. He was old and wise, not young and dashing. His skin was gritty and blemished, not soft and flawless. His body was tall and muscular, but not as lean and well sculpted as the ladies liked. His face was square and beginning to show signs of age, his short gray hair and beard the opposite of the flowing coiffes of the imaginary youthful heroes of Shin-Ra Inc. He wore his many scars and years proudly, knowing them to be the marks of a real SOLDIER. Taggart may not have been the ideal SOLDIER in the minds of the masses, but he was certainly a true warrior, and he had very much earned his spot at the top. 

"I think it would be wise to evacuate." Taggart told his employer calmly, grabbing his torn blue shawl and pulling it over his shoulders. " I suggest we take the chopper and make our way to Costa Del Sol from there." Taggart stood up, brushing some dust off his arm and grabbing his blade off from the floor and swinging it over his shoulder and into its holster. While the President's clothes were spotless and white, Taggart's were dirty, ragged and completely black, with numerous silver buckles keeping his light armor in place. Certainly an odd duo, they couldn't have looked to be more different had they tried.

"Hmm..." Rufus murmured thoughtfully before putting his hands together and snickering. "Afraid of the Masamune, are we?"

For a long moment, Taggart said nothing, only staring plainly at the arrogant President "Let's just say that if Sephiroth were to get in our way." The veteran began stoically "I would most certainly deal with him. But today, I don't think that that's necessary."

From his bag, he pulled a very strange contraption. Dozens of multi-coloured wires spilt out from each of its sides, and a small clock and control panel were all that they connected to. 

"A mako bomb." The President smiled as Taggart inserted a minuscule green glowing orb into a compartment and set the clock for thirty minutes. "Smart. But I guess this is the sort of thing I pay you for, isn't it?"


	9. The Red

Chapter 8: The red

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Midgar's Wall Market was, like the majority of the slums, a disgusting and unpleasant place to be. Crime was rampant, morals were forgotten, bodies were bought and sold like currency, and poverty was painfully obvious. The roads were nothing but dirt, greenery was nonexistent, and the sky was blocked out by the pitch black steel of the upper plate and dim neon red and blue billboards advertising products that no one had the money to buy anyway.

Zack walked the familiar unpaved streets silently, his hood pulled over his head and his hands, tinted red with fresh blood, concealed rather subtly inside his pockets. He almost smiled as he recognized the specific land marks of years past. There had once been a time when this place didn't seem so bad, when instead it was almost charming. But then again, everything seemed a little bit better when she was around...

"Enjoy your trip to the Don's?" A friendly voice inquired politely. "He's got the best girls in the world, you know. They'll fix you right up and leave you smiling. At least that's what the ad says..." 

Zack froze, and turned on his heel. "What do you want?" He demanded gruffly from the silver-haired imp who so enjoyed haunting him.

"I always have to want something, don't I Adam?" The man smiled as he sat atop a small pile of garbage and debris. "I can never just want to be with a friend. I always need to have an ulterior motive. Honestly, I'm offended."

"Why do you insist on playing around with me?" Zack asked impatiently. "Can't you just get straight to the point? It'd be a lot faster if you would just say what you wanted right off the bat so that I can just go ahead and tell you to fuck off."

"Such attitude." The beast hopped off its ledge, and crossed its arms in a sarcastic pout. "It's really not necessary. You should show more respect to your superiors. In fact, you should be honored that I'm so amicable and generous with you. It's not every day I show kindness to another human being."

"Remind me to thank you the next time I happen past your grave." The young skeptic ended with a shrug and went back on his way.

"Still don't believe I exist, huh?" The beast snickered "I'm with you every minute of every day but you still don't want to accept me. Is it that hard to believe, Adam? Think I'm just a figment of your unstable ego? Go ahead and tell yourself you're insane, it won't make me leave. I'm here because you chose to follow the path I offered you. Whether you like it or not, I'm going to hold you to your word."

"Why should I believe in you?" Zack questioned aloud, once more turning to face the inconvenience. "Aside from bugging the crap out of me, there's not much you've done but whisper dark little lies in my ear. Why should I listen to you? You're just trying to break me. Too bad, it's not gonna work." He smiled to himself as his former comrade stood there saying nothing. "Goodbye." With a sarcastic salute, he turned back around and continued on at a comfortable pace. 

"You can't ignore me, Adam." The beast simply chuckled. "I can see every thought that travels through that dreary little head of yours. If you don't do what I say, I'm very much capable of making your life a living hell. There are things inside that conscious of yours that you've locked away; horrible ugly thoughts, and they will resurface regardless of how hard you try to bury them."

"Not listening." Zack informed him without turning.

"I was impressed by the way you handled those thugs back there." The black clad man called after him conversationally. "It's good to see that someone is willing to stand up to the mob." He continued, his hands in his pockets as he playfully kicked up a cloud of dirt. "Things need to be done to keep the Don in check. The way he markets that whore house of his is appalling. Although..." The beast paused, turning his gaze to the brightly painted mansion behind him, a thoughtful frown on his face. "It had a very pleasant smell. Unusual, I don't know how they got it to be like that. Did you notice it, Adam?"

Zack stood there for a second in the middle of the road, his body and mind uncertain of how to react, but both working rapidly to understand how on earth the beast had recognized it .

"It smelt like... like an open field of fresh grass, but with something else there..." The beast mused as he scratched his chin in an effort to remember. "A rose maybe, only a little bit better. Now from where do I know that scent..." He shook his head in disdain "Do you remember, Adam?"

"Shut up." He slowly turned back to face his figment, his face red with a sustained rage as he pointed a heading finger. "Just shut up."

The beast grinned at first, and then broke into quiet laughter. "I knew you'd remember." He smiled mischievously. "That Flower Girl of yours always had an unforgettably wonderful scent to her, and it was thick in that place. I could see you tasting it on the air. I'm sure you were wondering what on earth she would have been doing in a whore house, but you've probably figured it out by now, haven't you?" The beast stopped for a moment and approached his former comrade, who stared at the dirt on the ground, shaking. "Do you ever wonder if that little flower of yours isn't quite so innocent anymore? That maybe plucking a pedal from her isn't quite as hard as it used to be?"

Zack grabbed the man by the collar of his coat and swung him as hard as he could into a brick wall, his face beat red and his eyes nearly burning a hole through him "Shut up. Just shut the fuck up." He spat spitefully.

"Hey, easy there." The beast laughed casually. "If I'm just a figment of your imagination, then I can't be telling you anything you don't already know, right? So that means you must have already realized that she's probably selling more than just daisies at that street corner of hers these days."

Zack could only bring himself to stare at that smug face, wanting so badly to punch it into an unrecognizable crater.

"I wonder why she would have first tried it..." The beast continued, mercilessly clawing at the man's fears and insecurities "Probably got lonesome after you never came back. Probably felt pretty cheap and used. She's a smart girl, probably figured she may as well make a couple of Gil if guys like you were going to take advantage of her anyway. At least she doesn't have to feel lonely at night anymore..."

"SHUT UP!" Zack roared furiously as he harshly banged the beast backwards into the wall. 

"Calm down." The beast only smirked. "You're the one who thought of it all in the first place. I'm just reminding you."

Zack stared at him for a moment, fuming. Finally, he pushed himself away and paced the dirt, doing his best to empty his head of the horribly exploited idea.

"Would you like to go see her?" The beast chimed in politely "You may not be happy with what you see, but I can show her to you if you want me to. You have to do something for me first, but I promise you a peek if you do a good job."

For a long moment, Zack only stared at him, his decision made but none the less speculative of the beast's offer "What do you want?" He finally asked.

The beast grinned for a moment, and then left his wall to roam the dirt, his head bowed and his hands clapped together. "I need you to send a message for me." The beast explained. "I've been gone for far too long, Adam. The world has stopped fearing my name, and I simply can't have that. My ruthlessness only exists in legend now, and the people need to know that I'm coming back, stronger and crueler than ever before. I need you to show the masses that the General has returned."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Zack asked, somewhat hesitant.

The beast paused, still smiling "It shouldn't be too hard for you." He said, masterfully speaking every deceitful little word. "Just a nostalgic roam through the halls of Shin-Ra Inc. should be enough. Then maybe a new coat of red paint in the President's office. That place just looks too generic right now."

"You expect me to march into Shin-Ra HQ, and then waltz right into the President's office, unarmed?" Zack asked, his arms folded as he lulled over the ludicrous suggestion. The beast only nodded its head "Mind telling me how the hell I'm going to pull that off?"

"You'll find a way." The beast shrugged. "You always do. But I do suppose you might need a weapon. Here." He tossed the infamous Masamune that hung at his side. The blade landed at Zack's feet, and he could only bring himself to stare at it in a silent shock "You may as well get reacquainted with it now. Goodbye." With a sarcastic salute of his own, the beast turned away and began to leave. 

"Hold on a second." Zack managed to shake himself out of his stupor before the beast disappeared. "What about Aeris? Where is she?"

The beast didn't even bother to turn around before evaporating in a cold black flash of light, leaving Zack with an irritated frown.

Swearing under his breath, he kicked a cloud of dirt into the air, disgruntled in the way the beast toyed with him. The long thin sword known world-wide as the Masamune suddenly caught his eye. Reluctantly, he picked the blade up off the ground, staring at it soundlessly. He made a few swift slices, cutting the air with each strike and finding himself frighteningly comfortable as he held the blade in two hands. With a contemptuous sigh, he sheathed the blade and concealed it deep in the shadows of his cloak. 

He looked up to the massive sky scraper of glass and steel named Shin-Ra Inc far above his head. It towered over everything else, dwarfing even the tallest of buildings. With a shrug, Zack was on his way. "May as well get started," He muttered to no one "It's a long way up..."

  
  


*** 

  
  


Sneaking through the corridors of Shin-Ra Inc had required surprisingly little stealth, only a ridiculous amount of patience and endurance. For the first sixty floors of the sky scraper, he had managed to get through using only the sealed off fire-escape, which had proven to be a task both exhausting and mind-numbingly boring. An assassination was a far less exciting process than most imagined.

On the higher levels he had moved silently and inconspicuously, taking full advantage of the shadows. The employees of the corporation were busy and unconcerned with anything other than their own menial tasks, and the only security had been basic hired help and the low-ranking members of SOLDIER who lived in the barracks. Most of the SOLDIERs were a bit eccentric anyway, and since he still wore the First-class emblem on his belt, so they did little else but bow their heads politely as he passed them. It wasn't long before Zack found himself on the sixty-eighth floor.

Zack stood there in the middle of the room for a moment, awful little memories of needles and scalpels stirring up emotions that he swallowed and saved for latter. For now there were more pressing matters. 

The sixty-eighth floor was nothing more than a clattered laboratory, with bales of chemicals filling most of the space on every table and dozens of scattered books littered everywhere, all with nearly incomprehensible logs and notes. The place was a mess to say the least, with broken beakers and torn pages everywhere. Most would have guessed that someone had been hired to sabotage this lab, but Zack knew better. This was simply the way that Professor Hojo worked.

He walked through the lab indifferently, not caring what his feet stepped on and subsequently destroyed. He actually found himself enjoying the sound of the crushing glass under his boot, dreaming of how important it all was to the scientist. He only stopped when he smelt that familiar odor on the air. That perfect rose... Aeris had been here.

Emotions buried hardly a second ago burst through their caskets, engulfing his mind in primal rage as he jumped to the first conclusion he could muster. Hojo. That fucking prick, what had he done to her? He poisoned everything that tried to live and be beautiful. If he so much as plucked one strand of hair from off her head...

"What a temper..." The beast chuckled, leaning against a table as he gleefully watched his enraged toy.

"Where the fuck is he?!" Zack roared, furiously tossing a cart of pots and beakers aside. The glass abruptly shattered as it hit the floor, but neither of the two acknowledged it. "Where is that little freak?! He's got to pay..."

"He's not here." The beast told him. "If he was, I'd gladly sick you on him. I hate him as much as the next homicidal maniac. But unfortunately for you, he's none of your concern tonight. We've got a bigger, fatter, richer fish to fry." 

"First," Zack swallowed his fury, and tried his best to regain his composure. "Tell me where she is. I need to know..." 

The beast frowned for a long second, and then shook his head."Five years of excruciating torture and Hojo's only a distant thought in your head," The beast began, confused. "But the possibility of him harming that little flower girl of yours is enough reason for you to make a bee-line to kill him? Love is ridiculous..."

"Where is she?" Zack demanded sternly.

"She's right here, actually." The beast shrugged casually. "Safely locked up in a cell just over there. She had a rough night, she's sleeping now. Go see her, if you want to."

Zack stared at him for a long moment, surprised yet wary. Finally, he made his way past the lab and into the prison-like hold for the Professor's specimens. Anxiously, he made his way through the dimly lit corridors, his heart pounding loudly in his ears as he passed both empty and occupied cells until he finally reached hers, and then his heart stopped entirely.

She was exactly as he had left her as she lay on her cot: sleeping blissfully, her head resting gently on her arm, same pink dress attached to her figure and her soft chestnut hair hanging down from her undone braid and resting limply on her cheek. Nothing had changed; she was still perfect, still so incomprehensibly beautiful. For a good long moment, everything seemed right again. All the fears, all the doubts, all the pain, all the hate, it all simply melted away, like it had never been there in the first place. 

He felt helplessly weak as he watched her lay there perfectly still, memorizing every minute detail. His body was warm again; as though his icy blood had melted and was now flowing freely once more. He gently pressed his hand up against the thick window, and he felt his knees buckle and his heart ache with want and sorrow as she stirred softly. Despite the soundproof door, he dared not make a sound. He wouldn't want to wake her. He was content now just to watch her, and if he could just freeze this moment for all eternity, he was more than willing too.

"She really is quite breath-taking." The beast cut in carefully to an oblivious Zack, who seemed not to even respond to him, trapped in his perfect instant of peace. "It's no surprise you're so taken with her." Zack still seemed far off, ignorant to beast's existence. "I know you've missed her Adam, but it's not your time to be with her. There are still things that need to be done." 

Zack still had yet to move, his body expressing nothing but a very silent defiance to anything other than his angel. That was, until a horrible dark pain exploded inside his mind, forcing him to his knees as it seared inside his head like a giant black super-nova. He screamed in agony as he was blinded by the uncontrollable anguish.

The beast only smirked as he watched the puppet writhe despairingly. "Mother's jealous." It snickered cruelly as the hate rose up in Zack's heart, engulfing his eyes in that familiar yellow fire. "You didn't honestly expect to be this close to her and get away with it scott free, did you?!" The beast boomed, furious and amused all at once. "You've still got some big debts to pay before you get anything more than a minuscule taste of happiness. Mother's not quite ready to let you off the hook just yet."

A lone guard came to answer the agonized screams coming from the corridors of the containment area. He found a lone black haired man crawling up against the wall, making himself as small as could be as the hurt inside him shook him uncontrollably and he blubbered incessantly. "Sir!" The guard began, extending a careful hand to the hysterical dark man who had ceased to make any noise, but was instead now rocking back and forth with his head between his knees. "Are you okay sir...sir?" 

"I guess it's time you do your job, Adam." With one final icy smirk, the beast disappeared in a flash of cold black light, leaving the man sobbing pathetically on the floor with nothing other than a confused employee trying to help him. But the dark man wanted none of it.

As soon as the guard dared touch the man's shoulder, his hand was lost in a flash of silver and steel. He screamed in horror and pain as he stared at the bloody, ugly stub that now replaced his hand as he fell backwards into a corner, his eyes wide with shock and terror. The black haired man only stood up, an unsympathetic expression as he approached the poor guard who could only watch in fear. Another flash of silver, and it had all come to a quick end for the man.

His stoic face etched in stone, the dark man turned the corner and kept on walking as though nothing had happened, not even bothering to wipe his blade clean. He opened a door, and entered a small, crowded room recognizable as the security cabin. Having just watched the footage of a murder, the guards stood up to face him with a look of shock as they stared at the blade. The expression lay engraved on their faces forever, as the black-haired man instantly cut them down. 

He stood there for a moment, watching the corpses bleed, pooling across the floor, but the red dared not touch him. He turned his attention to the console, the lights of many buttons and monitors flickering in the darkness. With one fowl swoop of the sword, the console erupted in an explosion of sparks and eventual fire. He listened carefully as the cameras and the electrical locks in the building buzzed quietly and went offline.

He stepped out of the burning room and made his way to the stairs, the Masamune held ominously at his side, dripping fresh blood and leaving a thick trail of it wherever he went. Nothing could stop him, and nothing was going to change that lifeless look on his face. He looked every bit as dead as his victims.

  
  


***

  
  


Pr. Shin-Ra sat comfortably in his plush chair, staring out at his massive office with a very content look on his face. After all, he was the most powerful man in the world. He was the man who held the world's economy in an unbreakable vice-grip. He was the founder of the world's most dominant and elite military force, SOLDIER. He was the one who had ruled over the great General Sephiroth. He had every right to be content.

He raised a somewhat surprised eyebrow as the monitors of his own personal console flickered and became a bright black and white blizzard of static. Confused, he pondered what may have just happened, but then thought better of it. He wasn't worried. Probably just a glitch in the head console. He sunk back into his snug chair, relieved. The ignorant bliss quickly faded when a black clad man marched up his stairs, holding the bloody blade of the General himself in one unflinching hand.

As the dark man leapt over his head and landed behind him, the President of Shin-Ra Inc. bound his eyes shut and grit his teeth. He felt the blade sink deep into his back and pierce his heart. He fell forward onto his desk, wheezing his final breaths. He wasn't all that surprised. He always figured he'd die because of someone stabbing him in the back.

So this was how it was going to end. No slowly losing his monopoly and dying a poor old man. No getting executed in front of the cheering masses. No getting betrayed by one of his jealous associates. Just a quick murder by some lunatic stranger. He supposed it was one of the better deaths he could have asked for.

  
  


***

Adam stared at the Masamune in his hands, a strange gray liquid dripping from it onto the floor. He looked up at the colourless world around him, the painfully generic blacks, whites and grays weighing him down. The colours had been stolen from him. He had lost them, and he couldn't figure out why they weren't coming back. Nothing seemed alive without them.

He sat in a corner of a large empty room, hugging the blade close to him and breathing heavy breaths, the soothing sway of the ocean rocking the boat like a cradle. He stared at the mundane corpses scattered around, bleeding nothing but gray. The red was gone. It looked so strange. He knew it was blood, but it simply couldn't stir him anymore. It made puddles all over the floor and stained the walls, but without the red...

He hugged the Masamune close to him. He had forgotten what it felt like to hold it; how satisfying it was to use it. He had forgotten his little escapade in Midgar, too. But maybe the quiet joys of murder were better left in the darkness. The blade pressed against his cheek, easily opening a wound. Still no red, though... 

She could bring them back, couldn't she? Of course she could, she would fix it all. Everything was just so dead without the colours, she needed to make the vibrance come back. Or at the very least she could help him make it all better. Picking up the pieces was much more fun with her at his side.

A muffled gasp slowly pulled him out of his trance. He lifted his head, and across the room, he could see her standing there, perfect...


	10. Behind the Masks

Chapter 9: Behind the Masks

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Blood was splattered against the walls like thick blotches of paint, painfully bright and obvious on the plain grey steel. Eight corpses were scattered across the floor, the looks of terror forever etched on their mangled faces as they lay in puddles of dark red. The gigantic room was utterly soundless, and from where Aeris stood, it felt very much like looking at a deranged painting from the fractured mind of a demented soul.

The artist sat in the farthest corner, his long sharp brush still wet with the only colour he ever used as he hugged it to him, his soft golden eyes locked intently on her own, watching her patiently as he awaited her critique. But no words were traveling through the mind of Aeris, only emotions that couldn't quite be expressed with language. None the less, the painter looked as though he understood her very well. 

"Aeris." The man hushed as he stood to his feet, seeing her and her alone as she stood amongst the rest of the Avalanche faction.

"Who are you?" Cloud demanded valiantly as he made himself an artificial wall between the two, seeing the girl's obvious uneasiness. "What are you doing here?"

Adam stared at her forever, ignoring everything else, but the colours were still gone. Her clothes were grey, her skin was white, and her hair was black, as was the rest of the world around her. She still looked vibrant though, not dead like the others. She didn't need the colours; she was always going to be beautiful. Still, Adam was a bit disappointed that the rest of the world would remain so generic. But compared to her, he supposed that's what it was.

"Rissy..." He began as he approached her worriedly, a confused expression on his face as he remained unidentified "Rissy, it's me..."

She cowered a bit, incapable of looking away from those piercing irises as she took shelter in the small crowd of her comrades. For each step he took forward she took one back. "Don't call me that..." She managed to sputter quietly as the monstrous stranger called her by the long-buried pet name.

There was nothing resembling love as she looked back at him, only fear for this dark outlander standing in front of her. She didn't recognize him. She saw nothing but a beastly murderer, the fresh blood of a few innocent victims running freely down his blade. She saw none of Zack in whoever it was glaring at her, only blackness. Only Adam.

There was something severely wrong here. She shouldn't have been this upset. She should have been happy to see him. But as she stared at him with those horrified, unbelieving eyes, Adam couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was she was seeing. The thing she was looking at couldn't be a loved one, but wasn't that what it was? Maybe she wasn't seeing what he thought was there; maybe she was staring at something much worse. 

"Back off." Cloud raised his voice as he unsheathed the infamous Buster Sword and intercepted the apparent murderer. The blade served well enough to grab the black-haired menace's attention, but the man was far from intimidated. He only looked at the blade with a very deep-rooted irritation, as if its presence were nothing more than a mocking smack in the face. "Aeris, get out of here and hide." Cloud called over his shoulder as he noticed the man's intensity, a soft, very subtle concern under the sharpness of his voice, his eyes all the while locked on the hooded figure. 

"Out of the way, Strife." Adam hissed venomously, struggling to keep composure. "I don't want to deal with you while she's watching."

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain a few things." Cloud retorted impatiently, not the least bit appreciative of the way the man talked down to him. "For starters, where'd you get that sword, and who the hell are you?"

"Cut the hero bull-shit, Cloud." Adam spat spitefully as he stepped to within an inch of the blonde's face, but he too showed no signs of recognition. "I don't know what the hell you're thinking, but I don't have the time to deal with you. I'll give you one chance to take your buddies and get your ass out of here." He pointed a finger at the eclectic group that formed a protective barrier around the frightened Aeris, who cowered out of the room. "Consider yourselves lucky."

"Avalanche don't run from no one." The largest of the pack abruptly interrupted, looking as imposing as could be with his large frame and a sub-machine gun grafted to his right arm. "Especially from some evil badass wannabe like you."

The black clad man slowly looked from one battle-anxious member of the coalition to the other, weighing his odds as he analyzed his opponents: There was of course Cloud; One exceptionally big and aggressive black bear with a gun; One well-endowed brunette who seemed fairly competent as she assumed a fighting stance, and one teenaged ninja-rookie with a 4-pointed shriuken along with her bizarre orange pet tiger-wolf...thing. With an acceptant frown, the man took a couple of steps back, slid his foot into place and lifted the Masamune to his side. "Close your eyes, Rissy..."

  
  


***

  
  


"So how did you manage to track it down to here?" Adam asked curiously as he paced the outside of a dilapidated church of the Sector 7 slums, kicking up dead dirt as he wondered just how long ago the last church of Midgar had been abandoned. "Tseng's been working on this case for years without any luck, how the hell did you get a lead?"

"I guess I'm just way better than Seng" Reno explained with a smile, a lit cigarette hanging from his bottom lip and his hands casually resting in his jacket pockets. 

"Not quite yet." Adam laughed as he came to a stop, and stared up at the broken stained glass. "Seriously though, how did you find it?"

"A couple nights ago we got a disturbance call saying something unusual was going on in this abandoned church. Seeing as Sector 7 was the escapees last known whereabouts, I figured it could use some investigation." Reno went on for a moment, sounding oddly professional "Did a little bit of espionage and I found out she had been living in this sector the whole time with a foster mother, and it seems to me like this is one of her hangouts."

"It's female, and human?!" Adam let out a surprised snicker. "What, you afraid of some girl Reno? If you were able to track her down, why didn't you just catch her yourself instead of dragging my busy ass into it?!" 

"It's not my job to hunt down 'potentially dangerous' lab escapees." Reno shrugged lazily.

"You'll make a great Turk someday, Reno." Adam sighed sarcastically to an indifferent Reno as he unsheathed the infamous Buster Sword. 

"Remember, Hojo wants this one alive." Reno warned the hack-happy SOLDIER "That means no slicing, dicing, or whatever the hell else you do with a huge-ass knife. I don't want you screwing this up for me."

"Relax." Adam said, taking a few shots at an invisible opponent. "This isn't going to be anything more than a walk through the park."

***

The fivesome abruptly rushed Adam, Cloud in front. With a simple parry, the blonde was pushed off balance to the side, leaving Adam but a moment to toss his foot into the air and kick the four-legged orange creature across the head who had made an ill-fated pounce. He then quickly side-stepped as the young ninja Yuffie swung her shriuken at his head with little grace. He heard the loading of a gun, and as one of the girl's weapon's four points jabbed at him, he swiftly caught it with one hand, spinning the girl around and making an adequate shield out of her. The trigger-happy Barret only managed to stop himself from firing his first shot in time to hear the young teen yelp in horror as she stared down the gun's barrels. As Cloud charged in for a second round, Adam kicked the green ninja away into the arms of the burly gunman, knocking them both over.

Cloud swung the Buster Sword shockingly well, as did Adam with the Masamune. Neither combatant thought the other was worthy of the blade they weld, yet both were equally stubborn in their belief that their own rapiers were rightfully earned. Two egos clashed along with the steel.

Adam attacked swiftly and furiously with the Masamune, trying desperately to pierce the blonde's defenses in time to defend the upcoming spell being conjured by the thoughtful brunette off in the distance, who had until now remained unnoticed. He managed to hit Cloud across the face with his fist, in time to mutter a counter-incantation and make a complicated hand gesture, redirecting the brunette's hurtling ball of mystical fire at the ever-dangerous Barret, who had just made his way to his feet. The massive sphere of orange and red hit him square in the chest, tossing him hard backwards into the steel wall hull of the room. He slid back down to the ground, unconscious.

A quick kick into the recuperated Cloud's chest gave Adam the necessary second to slice a fast-approaching large propeller out of the air. Two halves of a four-pointed shriuken fell to the floor, and a female teenager could be heard cursing loudly in the background. "Watch it kid." Adam scowled at the young combatant, barely turning back around in time to block a mad offensive by the blonde 'SOLDIER'. 

Cloud made stabs, slices and sweeps as he tried to cut down the black-clad man, and Adam was more than a little surprised to find himself on a very uncomfortable defensive. He ducked parried and side-stepped to the best of his ability, but the blonde's pace was too fast, even for the ex-SOLDIER. Cloud hit a very heavy shot across Adam's head with the blunt of the Buster Sword, knocking him sprawling hard flat onto his stomach and opening a large gash to the side of his forehead. Never-ceasing, Cloud opportunistically jumped into the air, blade held high as he roared a primal battle-cry before falling rapidly back down to the ground for the kill. In the short instant that he had to react, Adam rolled onto his back and caught the blade, one hand on each blunt-side, then thrust both feet hard into the blonde's abdomen, following through by rolling backwards, only to flip the fighter head-long into the wall. Cloud crashed hard, and fell to the ground, unmoving.

Adam immediately sprung to his feet and caught two ninja stars whizzing through the air. Again, Yuffie cursed. Annoyed, he threw the two projectiles back at the girl with all her skill or if not more, and they each embedded themselves deep into the girl's thighs. She fell to her knees and let out an agonized scream, biting back tears as her legs bled uncontrollably. In a mad sprint, Adam dashed across the room and dove, giving the girl a roundhouse kick so hard that it may have snapped her neck had she been frailer. Luckily, it left her little more than knocked out.

The orange-furred creature was quick to aid the girl, pouncing on the prone Adam and digging his claws deep into the man's back. Adam belted out a painful howl, and rapidly tossed the beast over his shoulder, but it altered its position in mid-air to land on its feet. It dove at him once more, but a frustrated Adam gave it a very harsh slash of his sword that lacked finesse, but was none the less very effective. The beast fell backwards out of the air, bleeding profusely, but still alive.

His breaths heavy and his body and mind exhausted, Adam looked at all the fallen fighters around the room, satisfied as he noticed no one standing. "Do NOT fuck with a first-class SOLDIER..." He muttered under his breath.

Masamune in his right hand, he made a bee-line across the room for the incognizant body of Cloud. A hard right hook across the face caught him off guard as a left hand twisted his wrist and tossed his weapon far aside, throwing him off balance only for a thin muscular leg to quickly sweep his feet out from under him. Adam moaned as he hit the ground and subsequently felt the wind get knocked out of him, but gathered himself in time to catch a falling boot that would have otherwise smashed into his face. He harshly twisted the foot, and its owner spun in the air and fell to the floor. The warriors rolled in opposite directions of each other and onto their feet, arms raised in a nearly identical fighting stance.

Adam mentally smacked himself in the head as he realized the attacker was none other than the brunette who cast the fire spell earlier. He had forgotten her, probably because she had pretty much stayed to the shadows and waited until he had been weakened. Now, she had been able to catch him off guard and take an exceptional advantage. Whoever this girl was, she was smart. Then it struck him...

The woman swung her fist and connected with a rough backhand across his face, confidently following through with a quick but deadly kick to his abdomen. He lurched forward, and she lifted her knee up into his face with crushing force, sending him stumbling backwards. The girl looked primed to finish him off with one good maneuver as she leapt up for a potentially bone-breaking axe-kick, but Adam caught the girl's foot with one hand while it was still considerably high up, swung his free arm around her waist and locked wrists. He followed through with the awkward hold by arching backwards and tossing the girl over his head and onto her own. His plan didn't quite work as he had hoped though as she took the fall with perfect grace and agility, intelligently rolling off the impact and back onto her feet.

She charged in with a few swift jabs, but this time around he seemed more than suitably prepared as he blocked each shot and even managed to retaliate with a couple of rapidfire strikes of his own, but neither managed to sneak in a solid hit. Boths styles and stances were similar at a brief glance of the constantly moving duo, but ironically, the girl's was probably the more agressive while the man's was the more polished and rounded. It was a very unusual battle of the sexes.

Adam made a full twist in the air before tossing a roundhouse kick, one which the girl dodged with a well-timed shoulder-roll. She countered with a sweep aimed at the back of his calves, but he forsaw it and jumped over it, altering his position in mid air to nearly axe-kick her into oblivion, but she again rolled aside safely and was up again in time to make the first strike.

He caught her speeding fist and slid under her arm, quickly pulling her over his shoulder and tossing her to the ground. She hit the floor hard with a loud thunk, but she took the fall properly and kicked back up onto her feet before he had the chance to follow through. She forcefully twisted his arm that held onto her wrist and gave him a few quick kicks to the abdomen, forcing him to lurch forward for a moment. Seeing a perfect opening, she swung his arm over her shoulders, then wrapped her one arm around his neck and grabbed his belt with the other, setting up for a personal favourite move of hers by the name of MeteoDrive. She lifted him upside-down and straight into the air and was ready to drop him on his head, but he was all too familiar with the move and knew very well how to counter it. Simply by tossing his weight forwards with his legs, Adam was able flip out of the hold and land on his feet, behind her. Reacting quickly, he caught her in a full-nelson, lifted her up into the air, arched his back, then leapt backwards off of his feet, letting Tifa's defenseless head land straight onto the floor with both Adam's weight and her own on-top of it. Needless to say, it was a knockout maneuver.

Adam pushed himself off the almost accordion-like girl, and nearly felt like collapsing from exhaustion. The girl had held her own amazingly well, almost annoyingly so. He couldn't help but smirk. That had certainly not been the Tifa Lockheart that he remembered. 

After a few wheezing breaths, he looked over his surroundings and spotted the Masamune. Right there in front of it lay the bloody Cloud, who looked to be slowly stirring back into consciousness as he reached desperately for his Buster Sword. 

Adam locked his cross-hairs on the poor blonde, and in hardly a second he was standing over him, crushing the blonde's hand with his foot, his fingers inches away from the massive blade. He leant down with his free hand and forcefully made the nearly comatose Cloud sit up against the wall of the ship's storage facility. Kneeling down on top of him, with the Masamune in one hand and the Buster Sword in the other, Adam made a pair of scissors with the two blades just under Cloud's throat as his glazed eyes continued to drift through the murky waters of a concussion.

"You look like you've done pretty well for yourself, Strife." Adam hissed cruelly, pushing up with the blades against Cloud's chin and forcing his head back into the cold steel of the wall. "You've made yourself some friends, and you've gotten to be half-way decent with a sword. Hell, you've even got that Tifa girl you were obsessing about following you around...that's gotta be a nice change of pace..." Adam snickered as he nodded his head to the bruised, beaten, and unconscious brunnette behind him. Cloud looked half-dead; it was debatable whether or not he could hear the black-haired man. "You play the part of a SOLDIER pretty well. I guess all you needed was a good disguise. But that's all it is Cloud, nothing more than a fucking mask covering up the worthless prick you really are..." He spat at the boy, forcing the blonde-haired blue-eyed boy to stare him in his own fiery golden pupils as he shoved him again into the wall, nearly choking him. "You can hide behind that nice face of yours and make everybody love you, but you think they give a fuck about the real guy? You think if you weren't wearing that pretty little SOLDIER shroud they'd give a damn about you? Well how about you take it off and show them what I already see..." 

Adam put the blade of the Masamune against Cloud's chin, piercing the skin and reaching the bone. Cloud let out a half-conscious piercing moan, but Adam didn't even flinch as he ever-so slowly pushed the blade further upwards, all the while staring at him squirm meekly. "Let's see what you look like without this pretty little face to hide you..." Adam whispered almost playfully. 

  
  


***

  
  


Zack calmly strolled the inside of the Sector 7 church, making no effort to go unnoticed as he dragged his hand down the aisles, tipping over several pews and smiling in delight as they loudly smacked the broken floor tiles. 

"Would you quiet down?!" Reno whispered as he pulled Zack away from the old wooden noise-makers. "You'll wake up the whole sector if you keep this up!"

"You're taking this way too seriously." Zack shook his head and roughly pulled his arm away from the downer "We may as well give the escapee a sporting chance by letting her know we're here. A SOLDIER and a Turk trying to capture one measly little girl? That's no fun. This way, we can at least chase her a bit."

"Well excuse me for not wanting to explain to a grumpy mob that we decided to have a bit of fun." The Turk yelped unintentionally loudly. "Besides, what makes you think she's even here, anyway? What's the point of giving a 'sporting chance' to an empty church? Sorry to burst your bubble, but there's nobody here but us."

"You really are a pain in the ass when you're sober." Zack sighed, irritated by the uncharacteristically uptight Reno. "And she's here. Don't worry about that."

"How would you know?" Reno asked almost obnoxiously.

"It's all in the details, Reno." Zack explained good-humouredly as he directed the red-head to an opening in the middle of the cathedral's floor that exposed gritty dead earth. He grabbed a capsized watering can off the floor and abruptly shoved it into the Turk's hands. "It's full, hardly any has leaked out since it's been lying on its side. Which means that whoever tipped it over, did so within the past couple of minutes. What's that tell you?"

"That whoever was using it is probably still here." Reno frowned as his friend continued to patronize him.

"Very good." Zack gave him a demeaning pat on the head. "I'll make a Turk of you yet, Reno."

"You're an ass, you know that?" Reno said plainly. Zack only smirked and looked up to the ceiling of the cathedral, while Reno continued to analyze the small green watering can. The never ending stone grey walls surrounding them climbed up for what seemed like forever, disappearing into a ceiling of shadow where crows slept and darkness was dominant.

"Here's what I don't get." Reno pondered aloud as he kneeled down to look at the tiny green sprouts in the small opening in the floor. "Who the hell would try gardening in the Sector 7 slums? The ground's as dead a corpse down here."

"Yeah, I thought that was kind of weird." Zack agreed "Anything with a half a brain could tell that nothing's ever going to grow down here. That she even managed to get that much is impressive..."

The faint sound of a scratching could be heard above them. The two youngsters both instinctively looked up to see a large wooden barrel hurtling downwards towards their heads. Ever the cool-headed one, Zack shoved Reno aside and to the floor and dove for his own cover. The barrel smashed against the ground, tossing small wooden debris in every direction.

"What the hell was that?!" Reno yelped to his comrade.

"I think we've found our escapee..." Zack whispered as he jumped to his feet, distinctly seeing something move amongst the shadows in the ceiling. In a mad dash, Zack dove up onto a gigantic old organ against the back decor of the gothic church, and climbed the many tubes and pipes, scaling the wall fearlessly until he found himself in the dangerous pitch darkness of the impossibly high rafters.

He followed the attacker throughout the ceiling as its feet creaked and cracked against the aging wood. He ducked and jumped from rafter to rafter as he tried to hunt by sound alone, moving quickly but carefully through the makeshift gungle gym with Buster Sword ready in one hand.

Finally, he found his sight again as he came to a large tare in the church's roof. There, looking like a ghostly angel as the full moon's anemic white light rested gently on her and her alone, was the escapee, a look of terrible fear on her face as she stared at her captor. But Zack could only watch the chillingly beautiful image, frozen in a surreal second as her warm green eyes silently pleaded with him.

"What the hell's going on up there?!" Reno called from afar, grounded in his lack of a SOLDIER's agility.

Zack and the angel had yet to budge, each awaiting the other's next move, or rather a first move.

"Zack?!" Reno persisted. "Are you there?! Did she get away?!"

Zack paused for a good long second, and then sheathed his blade. "Y-Yeah..." He called back hesitantly, not for a second turning away from the angel "I couldn't catch her...She got away."

The girl tilted her head at him, confused. He only gave her a meaningful nod of the head, and after a short uncertain moment, she charged out through the tear without a word.

Silently, he watched her as she made her escape down the piles of debris, onto the streets and into the night. After a serene moment of quiet darkness, Zack couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle to himself as he sat down on the rafter, letting his legs dangle over down to the far away ground. That flower girl sure was full of surprises.

  
  


*** 

  
  


A large ball of fire hit him in the chest, tossing him far backwards off the blonde and into the open space of the long room, disarmed. Adam scorned himself as he pondered who he had forgotten to give a good thwack across the head this time, hitting the ground hard and quickly rolling out the erupting flames. SOLDIER that he was, he was back on his feet in a flash, but was still a step behind as a painfully cold wind caught him and thousands of miniature icy shards crashed against his body, each cutting past the cloth and opening a wound in his skin. He stumbled backwards and nearly fell, biting back an inefficient scream as he wheezed for air. He was almost ready again when a crippling bolt of electricity struck him down to the floor, burning his flesh and organs. With an unbelievable amount of strain, he managed to bring his broken, spazing body up to its hands and knees in time to see something pink uppercut him with the butt of a long grey staff, knocking him onto his back and leaving him staring up at his attacker as she pushed the end of her weapon into his throat.

"Never underestimate a girl from the slums..." Aeris spat rather uncharacteristically cruelly at the seemingly defeated Adam who only watched her with a confused look on his bloody face. "Nobody messes with my friends and gets away with it."

"Rissy..." The black-clad man coughed weakly. "It's me...please let go."

She stared at him for a good long moment, her expression unreadable as she looked down upon the monster silently. "Don't call me that..." She finally said quietly, briefly letting up with her staff 

"Rissy..." He pleaded silently.

"I said don't call me that!" She yelped furiously at the beast as she pushed down ever harder, making him writh. 

Suddenly, a quiet ticking caught Adam's attention. It continued for a few seconds, and he was able to discern it as the tick-tock of a clock. But then the ticking stopped, and then for one brief second nothing followed. His eyes widened in horror as awareness hit him like a brick. A mako bomb had just been detonated.

A soft wall of blackness enveloped Aeris as he kicked her off of him and far away in less than a second. A massive explosion of green fire immediately followed, eating up the number 17 Shin-Ra transport ship in one instant, and gone in another as an eerie heavy darkness swallowed the colour whole. It engulfed everything, looking like a small piece of outer space right there in the middle of the ocean. It had come from nowhere only to consume the fiery destruction with chilling ease. 

After the darkness parted, there was nothing left but ocean... 


	11. Disgusted

Chapter 11: Disgusted

  
  
  
  
  
  


Aeris sat alone in the dirt around her house, trying futilely to grow life from the dead earth. She dug her hands deep into the hard unfertile ground and poured seeds into the hole, only to bury them again. Flowers had been an obsession of hers as long as she dared remember. Ever since she had read about their enchanting colours and perfumes, she had wanted to see them growing all around her. Years latter, she had yet to see a real one, only fake plastic manufactured imitations she often found herself trying to sell. 

She brushed a loose strand of hair aside and wiped the sweat off her face with her hand, reaching for her watering can with the other. It seemed so useless sometimes. Even when something did manage to grow, it was poisoned from birth and died long before it had the chance to bloom. It was depressing watching the cursed plants whither away before they became anything but sprouts. But she wasn't going to give up. The slums needed something beautiful in them. 

With a yawn, she gathered her tools off the ground into her arms and stood to her feet, her work for the afternoon finished. She carried them awhile before setting them neatly down on a table. She figured one day, if she was persistent, something wonderful would thrive here. All it needed was a lot of care and patience. People always told her she was such an optimistic little girl.

"You're never going to grow anything here." A plain voice called after her factually. She froze, and slowly turned to face the intruder of her little haven. 

He was standing just behind the wooden gateway of her home, his face strangely unreadable as he watched her. He seemed a totally different person than who she remembered. With his plain white t-shirt and simple black pants he seemed perfectly subdued, but even against his best efforts he was intimidating. A million thoughts traveled through her head, mostly dominated by fear of the things he might be hiding behind the simple image. 

"The ground's too dead." Zack continued, leaning over the white pickets of her fence amicably but carefully. "All the life for about a hundred miles has been sucked right out of the earth by the Mako reactors. It would take a little bit more than hard work to make something live down here." He paused, and waited for her to respond, but she only looked away. "What are you planting, anyway?"

She refused to say a word, she only stared at him silently, frightened. Zack frowned and shook his head. "You shouldn't be so hostile." He went on conversationally, taking a few conscious steps back from the girl's property. "I'm not going to hurt you, and you have no reason not to believe me when I say that. I just want to talk, okay?"

She watched him carefully for a long moment, pondering his sincerity. Finally, she took off her gloves, folded her arms and nodded her head.

"Alright then." He smiled politely, and tried to start anew despite the awkwardness. "Sorry about the other night," He said looking away from her and scratching the back of his head. "I had a job to do..."

"Then why didn't you do it?" She interjected for the first time, throwing him off balance.

"Well, I couldn't..." He chuckled uncomfortably. "I'm off the assignment now. I don't think I was fit for it. I guess you could call it a conflict of interests..."

She stared at him in silence for a second, but when he met her gaze she brushed her hair and turned away uncomfortably. 

"So you're a SOLDIER?" She asked, more of a comment than a question.

"First-class." He informed her, saying it for the first time in his life without an air of arrogance. She nodded her head, staring at the dirt that she paced, arms crossed. "What can I say? It pays well enough."

"If it pays, then what are you doing down here in the slums?" She asked confidently.

"I like it down here." He explained with a shrug. " I get so sick of dealing with the superficial crap of the upper-plate. It's refreshing to meet real people. It may sound kind of weird," He snickered "But I think it's kind of cozy down here in the nitty-gritty. It reminds me of home..." He stared out at nothing for a second.

"Where are you from?" She asked curiously, a little bit more at ease as she knocked him out of his brief trance.

"Gogonga." He answered with a slight shake of the head. 

Aeris' eyes widened at the mention of the infamous village. "I...uh..I heard it was nice..." She stumbled awkwardly with her words as she inwardly cringed.

Gogonga had been a small farming town in the depths of a jungle on the western continent, once famous for having one of the world's first and finest Mako reactors. However, one random afternoon five years ago, the reactor malfunctioned, practically leveling the entire jungle with the largest Mako explosion on record. To this day, the massacre remained Shin-Ra's Inc most well known blunder.

"Don't worry about it." He laughed it off as he walked around with his hands in his pockets "I haven't been there in years. I haven't even seen it since the blast." He forced a smile at her. "But yeah, it was nice while I was there. Couldn't do much there other than farm, though." She nodded her head and stared at her feet for a second as he watched her. "I can help you, if you want..."

She lifted curious eyes at him.

"With your garden, I mean." He told her pointing at the earth in which she had planted her seeds "You can't live in Gogonga without learning a few tricks about agriculture."

"You'd help me?" She asked with an unintentional twinge of surprise, hesitant none the less.

"Why not?" He smiled warmly.

She tried to muffle her own soft giggle under his charming gaze, which only made his smile widen. "Alright, you can help." She waved him into her garden. "I need an extra pair of hands anyway."

With a wry grin, he easily hurtled over the gate and landed within a couple of feet of her . "So," He began, rubbing his hands together excitedly "What are we growing?"

"Flowers." she told him, tossing him a pair of gloves as she noticed him suppressing a laugh. "What's so funny?" She demanded playfully.

"Nothing." He shook his head and swallowed the laugh. "It's just...flowers? It just fits you so well, is all. I might have guessed."

"Well excuse me." She said, almost offended but not quite as she handed him a watering can. "I happen to like beautiful things."

"Fine." He smirked, raising his hands in defense, watching her as she worked. "You know what..." He said after a moment's pause. She froze as a devious grin crept up on his lips. 

"What?" She asked hesitantly.

"Considering all that I'm going to do for you," He began, devilishly rubbing his chin. "I think you owe me something."

"Oh..." Her eyes widened worriedly. "What exactly is it you want?"

"I think that since I'm going to help you grow a beautiful garden..." He continued edging closer to her. "That I should get to keep the second flower that grows here."

"Huh?" She asked, somewhat surprised.

"I know it's going to be really nice." He explained with a shrug. "And my room could use some colour."

"Okay..." She muttered, confused. "I guess that's okay..but why the second flower?"

He smiled, and did his best to feign a shocked expression. "You're going to want the first flower you grow for yourself, aren't you?"

  
  


*** 

  
  


Tifa opened her eyes to a musky dark windowless room, all but empty except for a long, thick sword resting in the corner. She panicked for a moment as she realized she was unable to rise from her seat. She looked down to find herself securely tied to a chair. She struggled for a good minute, the tight rope burning her wrists and waist. She froze as she saw her dark captor emerge from the shadows opposite her, fingering the fabled Masamune absently.

"Relax..." He began, watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. "If I was going to do something to you, I'd have already done it by now, right? No use worrying about it."

His condolences didn't seem to help her frightened state.

"I know this isn't exactly an ideal situation for you," He began after observing her for a minute, a soft, almost sympathetic frown on his face as he pulled up a chair in front of her just out of kicking distance, leaving the Masamune in the corner. "But you're stuck in it, so you may as well get used to it now. I can tell you one thing, you're not going to get out of here unless I let you out, so hopefully that has an affect on your behavior. Now, I've got some food if you want it..." He reached for a tray of food on a table in the corner, upon which sat some obscure form of stew. He dug a spoon into the gruel, and lifted it near her mouth "Open up and say 'awe'..."

Reluctantly, Tifa accepted the substance into her mouth, letting it mellow for a moment before spitting it in her captor's face. "Fuck you." She told him plainly as he sat still for a second, the goo dripping from his face. 

Slowly, he calmly stood to his feet and pushed his chair aside, turning his back to her and resting his hands on his hips for a second. In a quick flash of black, he grabbed her by the throat with one hand and choked her mercilessly, nearly knocking her and the chair over. Tifa let out a muffled yelp, her eyes wide with shock and terror as the beast showed its true colours

"If you don't want to be civil, that's fine with me." He hissed cruelly as he leant down to within an inch of her face. "I'm willing and able to make your life a living hell if you want me to, so I whole-heartedly suggest that you play nice. Otherwise, I can break out the big book of torture and teach you a lesson or two about pain. Remember, you're the hostage, you have no power. I'm smarter than you, I'm stronger than you, and I can kill you before you'd even have the time to throw a punch, so don't you dare try and play games with me..."

With a meaningful second of silence, he pushed himself away from her. Lifting the capsized plate and tray off the floor, he solemnly made his way towards the exit.

"He'll come after me." She called to him bitterly. "He'll hunt you down and he'll kill you." She paused as he froze in the doorway, and she nodded her head to the Buster Sword resting beside the Masamune in the corner. "You stole his sword? Now you're in for it; he doesn't let anybody touch that thing. Kiss your ass goodbye."

"Did you happen to miss me kicking the crap out of him and your little faction?" He turned around to face her. "I knocked you out last, I don't know how you could have. Sorry to burst your bubble, but it's gonna take a lot more than Cloud and the rest of that Avalanche group of yours to stop me."

"He's getting stronger everyday." She shook her head in a very heartfelt denial. "He's gonna hunt you down..."

"I'm counting on it." He sneered in her face. "I want him to come. I want him to try and kill me, just so I can have an excuse to slaughter him. You think your little SOLDIER boy is going to stop me from getting what I want? Well, Tifa Lockheart, deep down you know as well as I do that he's not nearly strong enough..."

She stared at him for a long second, shaking with fury but not daring to try anything under his careful gaze. Finally, he turned his back to her and was on his way out.

"What is it about her?" Tifa muttered far more meekly as she stared at her feet. The man turned once more to face her. "I saw you looking at her... all this is just about her, isn't it? All this pain, all this war, it's just because you want her. Nothing else matters, does it? It's the same with Cloud. He'd do anything for her..." She trailed off for a second. "I've known him for all my life and he's only known her for a few weeks and already he's in love with her. I can see it in the way he looks at her, it's so goddamn obvious. He used to look at me like that, you know..." She whispered, shaking her head bitterly before turning to her captor "What is it about her? What's so fucking special about Aeris?! What's wrong with me?! Why can't he..."

She couldn't finish, the stress of a world on her shoulders gnawing away at her as she broke into exhausted tears, resisting them at first but then finally letting them go. He could only stare at the girl's uncharacteristically delicate state, uncertain of what to do.

"You can tell me, can't you?" She managed to sputter in spite of herself "You love her more, don't you? I saw it. She loves you too, right? She won't take Cloud away from me because she loves you and you're going to fight so hard for her, aren't you?! Tell me she's yours! You're going to get her back, and then I can have him..."

He watched as she once more broke down into hysterics. She cried incessantly, so much that even the dark man became uncomfortable. He felt partly responsible. That night so long ago that he hadn't been strong enough to save her... and now look at her. She was broken, deluded and pathetically desperate. 

"I'm sorry..." He told her as comfortingly as he could muster, pulling up a chair to sit in front of her. "I'm so sorry that all this had to happen to you."

"Who are you?" She pleaded with him, her face a bright red and her vision blurry " Please tell me you're the one who deserves her..."

"I don't know what you want me to tell you..." He began so slowly, carefully looking her in the eye. "I'm someone she used to know, but she was taken away from me, along with everything else. She's...She's been the light at the end of my tunnel for the past five years. It's been so black, so ugly down this road, but I look ahead and...it's just so bright. I see it, and I know I'm going to do anything to get there..."

"When did you meet her?" She asked, calming just a bit. 

"Seven years ago..." He muttered. "I've loved her since that first day I saw her. I was too blind back then to realize that the days I was spending with her were the best of my life. But then I lost her... and then it became the most obvious thing in the world; the only thing left that I could really see..." He paused and shook his head to gather himself. "For five years in hell, she was all I could think about. I realized how much I loved her and how much I needed her. She gave me the strength to get away from it...to keep going. I know now that I'm going to do anything I can to fix everything for her...to make it all better. I'm going to get her back. No matter what I have to do, no matter how long it's going to take...She's going to be mine again, you can count on it Tifa."

"Oh, please..." The silver haired demon intervened, emerging from the shadows and standing just behind the dark captor and whispering in his ear. "This isn't some magical fairy tale, Adam. This is life. No matter how hard you try, Aeris doesn't love you anymore. You saw the way she looked at you. Go ahead and feed this girl a line of shit, you know what you are. You think they can't see it? It's more obvious to them than anyone."

"What's your name?" Tifa asked, a small smile cracking onto her face. 

"Don't you lie to her, Adam." The beast cut him short with a cruel laugh. He tried to ignore the monster, but it continued to dig so deep into him. "I know what you want to say, but you know it's the wrong answer, don't you?"

"Shut up..."Adam hissed, grabbing his head in both hands, bending forward and trembling violently.

"What's wrong?" She asked worriedly, all the while helplessly strapped to her chair.

"You think she'd believe you if you told her?" The beast continued, pacing around his victim. "She really liked Zack back in the day. He was so charming and dashing, who could blame her for having a little crush? But look at you. You're so pathetic and wretched, she'd probably laugh at you if you called yourself that." 

"Shut up!" Adam screamed furiously at the beast as he grabbed the Buster Sword from off the floor. "I'm Zack, dammit!"

Tifa cowered in her chair, the tears yet again welling in her eyes as she found herself trapped in front of her captor.

"Look how shocked she is!" The beast laughed and pointed at the girl. "She doesn't believe a word of it! Even she knows you can't be Zack. Tell her your name Adam, she doesn't like being lied to."

"She doesn't know shit!" Adam fired back at the beast, ignoring the whimpering Tifa. "I'm not Adam! I'm the same person I've always been!"

"Put down that sword Adam, no one likes a poser!" The silver-haired imp snickered. "You think you can just pick it up and be him again? Well it takes a bit more than a sword to be a hero."

"Please..." Tifa pleaded woefully, shaking uncontrollably in her chair as she wriggled futilely in an attempt to escape. "Please...whatever I did, I'm sorry..."

"You want to know why everyone loves Cloud?!" The beast continued to stab "You want to know why everyone's marching into battle with him?! It's because he's the hero now, not you." 

"No, no, no!" Adam roared as he paced the room. "I'm Zack, I'm the hero!"

"Please...I didn't do anything..."

"Not anymore, Adam!" The beast laughed cruelly. "Zack's been gone awhile now, you're nothing but a shell..."

"No!"

"Look Adam!" The beast never stopped, pointing at the girl. "She sees it, Aeris sees it, everybody sees it! Cloud's got the courage; he's got the girl; and he most definitely has the soul. He's everything you were: valiant and strong, not the loathsome creature you are today. Cloud stabbed you in the heart and took everything you had. Now he's Zack! You're just Adam..."

"You can't just stop being someone!" Adam shouted at the top of his lungs "You can't just steal a life and be someone different! That's not how it works! It can't be!"

"Look how scared she is..." The beast whispered pitifully at the sobbing Tifa. "She's probably wishing Zack would burst through that door right now and save her..."

"I'm fucking Zack!!!" Adam screamed at the girl, who could do nothing but cry.

"Please..." She whimpered, the tears running down her face "I believe you...please don't kill me..."

"Don't let her lie to you!" The beast boomed "She just wants to get the hell away from the madman with a sword! You wanna know why she doesn't believe you?! Because she loves Zack, and she sure as hell hates you..."

"I'm Zack, dammit..." He hissed venomously as he grabbed the girl under the chin harshly, all the while holding the blade at her throat.

"Please..." She sobbed. "Let me go..."

"Do you remember the look in her eye when she saw you?" He began. "Aeris was terrifed when you tried to be him. She saw you standing there clear as day, but that's not what you wanted. You wanted her to see an illusion, but she saw reality in its truest and ugliest form. She saw you Adam, and she hated it just as much as everyone else. Just as much as Tifa right here hates it." He tilted his head at the terrified girl. "She's so afraid of you Adam, it's even almost too much for me. Why don't you just put her out of her misery already?"

He pulled her in closer, his body shaking in rage as she remained unable to retaliate.

"I didn't do anything..." She pleaded one last time.

Adam froze within an inch of her eyes for a good long second. All of a sudden he realized what he was doing. He found himself staring into the eyes of this innocent girl, admonishing this monster in front of her for any kind of pity, and for the first time, he saw the monster too. He felt absolutely disgusted with everything he was.

"What the hell are you waiting for?!" The beast screamed impatiently at him.

"Oh god..." He muttered meekly as he broke away from the girl and dropped his blade, stumbling backwards and knocking over his chair. "Oh god," He pressed his hands against his head. "I'm so sorry..." 

"What are you doing?!" The beast screamed at him once more. "You can't stop now!"

"You've gotta get out of here..." He decided quickly, cutting the girl's ropes and freeing her of her imprisonment. "You've gotta run... I can't let him get you."

Tifa watched in shock as the dark man careened backwards and into the corner, his eyes wide with the horror of his own deeds. "I'm so sorry..." He whimpered once more as he turned his face into the corner, trying to hide himself from everything. 

Tifa watched him for a long minute, confused by her captor's blatantly overpowering inner demons. There was something very wrong in this place. She almost felt like staying to help the man, but all's she could do was runaway as fast as her legs would let her.

Infuriated, the beast knelt down beside Adam, who was sobbing into his arm, back turned to the world "You think you've won?" He spoke into the sniveling man's ear. "Believe me when I tell you it's going to get much much worse. You haven't even felt pain yet. But it's coming for you, Adam." The beast reassured him "There will come a day when the blackness inside you will swallow the world, and there will be nothing left but the infinite sorrow that you tried to bury. But justice must be served, and some day you'll realize that." The beast paused, licked its lips, and whispered into the monster's ear. "The day is sooner than you can imagine, Adam. The world will bleed...again."


	12. Different

Chapter 12: Different

  
  
  
  


Adam sat atop a chair, his legs crossed on top of the seat, staring out at a bleak grey Junon through eyes that no longer saw any colour. He was wide awake and his skin was cold as he sat there for hours, almost statuesque. His face chizzled in unbreakable stone, he watched the world blankly yet sadly, looking out to the ocean but never seeing any of it.

Across the room sitting on the floor in the opposite corner was his only company: a frighteningly loyal silver-haired monster who had never left his side in the past weeks. Every second of everyday the beast was inside his head, telling him secrets about the people that passed and offering fractured truths. Adam knew he'd never be alone as long as it was alive. It was oddly comforting.

"I know what you must think of me." the beast called after the man. "You think that I'm trying to trick you, that I'm trying to pull your strings." He sneered. "You'd be right."

Adam didn't move a muscle or make a sound, only stared out his window.

"But I know you could care less about me. "the beast sighed, planting his chin on his fist. "Isn't that right, Adam? She's the only one you really care about, all you've ever really cared about."

Adam still did nothing.

"But something's changed." He continued, fiendishly amused. "Something's different. Something's broken, and she hates you for it. You know it, but you don't seem to be able fix it for her. That must be infuriating."

Nothing.

The beast snickered and stood to it's feet, pacing the room. "So what now, then?" He asked, mockingly bemused. "There's something about you that needs repair. It's a gaping dark hole, and she can't stand it. No matter how hard you try though, this is simply one of those things that will not go away, regardless of how big a band-aid you use to patch it up. You've realized that now, so how do you make her take you back anyway?"

Still not even the slightest acknowledgment as the beast stopped and laughed.

"Oh, but that's not what you want, is it?" It chuckled. "Because there's no point in making her love you, is there? You may be strong enough to take her by force, but what's the use if she won't let you with open arms? It's not fulfilling if it's not real, and it's not real if you force yourself upon her. She has to want you, right? Otherwise it's not love. You may as well be raping her, if that's the case."

Still nothing at all as the beast tore at wounds for it's own amusement.

"So what will it be?" It pondered mockingly. "She hates you, and you're only getting worse. She wants you gone, because she'd rather things stay the same. She doesn't want the dream your reaching so futilely for. So your dream is gone."

Adam bowed his head and pulled a hand through his messy hair, looking away in frustration from the empty greyness.

"What's the use of living if it's in spite of her?" It contemplated. "If the only way for you to exist is as the thing she hates, what do you do? What can you do?"

Adam stood to his feet, his hands balled into fists as he paced back and forth for a second, staring at the floor.

"She was supposed to be your salvation, but she's not offering any." It went on solemnly. "That's why you stay here in this room ignoring me, isn't it? You're not even trying to think of how to fix this anymore, because now you know." It flashed a content little sneer. "You know now that you're everything I've told you you are. If your own angel looks upon you with nothing but fear and hate in her eyes, what else could you possibly be but a monster? Because, to you, her's is the only truth. You've made her out to be the only right, and if it's her beauty, her purity that you trust, than you must be exactly what I say you are. If she sees you as Adam, than Adam is who you must be." It stopped for a second, watching the monster quake. "You must despise your very own being... seeking to eradicate it from existence. But you can't, because you simply won't allow yourself to let her go, despite how much she struggles to get away from you. So you're stuck here in a limbo, despising existence but desperately grasping it to you because she's part of it. Truly, you don't want to die, because you still love her too much to part. But that's all that there's left to do."

Adam stood there for a long moment, soundless. 

"Death is you're only salvation." The beast told him factually. "You can stay here and wallow, fighting it, but in reality the only choice left to make is to give in. To stop existing." It paused. "Perhaps you'll be able to take some small consolation in the fact that it's exactly what she wants."

Without a word, Adam left his room for the first time in days, stalking the streets as an unnoticed ghost, searching for something unseen, for anything to give him direction...

  
  


***

A young blonde haired boy lay in a bright white hospital bed. Equally white bandages covered his mid-section and the left side of his chest, from which dark red blotches seeped out. Around his damaged eyes were the thickest of the bandages, blinding him of his surroundings. In his naivety, the boy feared he had lost his sight, but even without knowing for sure he had moved passed the thought. He sat there in the darkness for weeks, hearing doctors and nurses murmur nervously as they stuck sharp painful objects in his veins, never telling him why.

In this place, he heard voices everyday; voices that talked about him and at him but never to him. They thought he couldn't hear them. They were wrong. He heard every word in ear-splitting clarity, whether they whispered or yelled. He just didn't bother answering them. What was the point? At least this way they would leave him alone to sort through the real and the fake.

He heard one of the voices. It didn't say much, but it was usually around. It was never excited or happy; always frightfully calm. But it was different today. It was very upset; he could hear it pacing across the room.

"For God's sake Professor," It muttered, as if it were wary that the boy was listening. "He's just a kid! Haven't you done enough? Let the boy see his family..."

Professor. That was the name of another voice. This voice the boy hated the most. It was usually calm and polite enough when there were others around, but when they were gone, it muttered the strangest, most disgusting things at the boy, and stuck him with by far the most painful objects. The boy learned a long time ago not to scream. It only made him push harder.

"I'm sorry Colonel, but that's not possible." The Professor retaliated in that insincere subdued manner. "Zackary here needs to stay for more experimentation. He's not nearly ready to be released; his poisoning might be contagious for all we know."

"Professor, you shouldn't continue on with this." The Colonel said righteously. "You're keeping this boy against his will from his family! They've already lost a daughter in that explosion, I'm not going to let you take away a son too."

"It's for his own benefit." The professor retaliated, irritated with the Colonel. "We have the best medical facilities in the world here in Midgar. If we were to transfer him to some pathetic rural hospital around his home, he'd be dead within the hour of his arrival."

"Cut the crap, Professor." The Colonel snickered back. "You mean to tell me you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?! Whatever it is your hiding, stop. What could possibly be so interesting about some twelve year-old hick from Gogonga?!" 

"His tolerance to mako is the highest I've ever seen." The professor sighed passively. "Higher than yours even."

"How much higher?" The Colonel asked, back to his usual business-like voice.

"Much higher." The Professor answered factually. "That blast would have vaporized the average man. This boy was at the core of it, and here he is alive." 

"Hmm." The Colonel murmured. "And you're trying to figure out why that is..."

"However it is he survived," The Professor continued. "It sure as hell wasn't natural. If we could repeat whatever it is that gave him this amount of adaptability..."

"...We just might have a new generation of SOLDIER on our hands." The Colonel muttered, and then took a long pause. "As soon as you're done, I want him under my supervision."

"Why?" The Professor asked inquisitively.

"If he's the first in the line of a brand-new SOLDIER," The Colonel explained "Then I don't want some second-class Sergeants burying his potential in useless grunt training. It'd be best to get him right on the SOLDIER program as fast as we can." 

And without another word the colonel left the room, leaving the boy in the clutches of the mad scientist yet again. The boy wasn't surprised that the colonel didn't help him. Sometimes, he seemed like a hero, but when it came down to business concerning SOLDIER's advancement, he could care less about morals and standards. Right and wrong suddenly became nothing more than words, the ideas behind them irrelevant.

So yet again the boy was left alone with the Professor, silently awaiting whatever probes he had in store. The boy had adapted in more ways than one.

"Now," The Professor began anew with what the boy imagined was a very sinister smile. "Let's open you up and see what makes you tick..."

The boy knew he'd never be able to find it.

  
  


***

  
  


Cloud sat in his room, tending to assorted cuts, bruises and other various injuries as he stared out at the vibrant and bright beaches of Costa Del Sol through his window. His pride hurt and his heart heavy, his brand new sword caught his attention. 'The Hardedge' as it was called was seemingly superior to the Buster Sword in every aspect. It was a stubby dark blade, but it was lighter and packed more of a punch than the Buster Sword ever could, but even then it could never be a suitable replacement. He had grown up with the Buster Sword, gone through SOLDIER with it in his hand and knocked over every obstacle. Now, he had lost it, and along with it what he felt was part of him.

A knock at the door shook him from his trance. He turned his head and saw the flower girl, standing in the hall with a concerned smile on her face. When times were rough, it was almost always her job to raise spirits. Most of the time, she succeeded, but when she didn't, Tifa had always been there to...

"Everybody's starting to improve." She informed him rather quietly. "Yuffie's still can't walk well on her own, and Red's still pretty bad, but Barret's great...at least physically." She paused for a moment and watched the depressed Cloud, who didn't react or move to the news. "I know we lost a lot that day," She continued none the less. "But we have to keep going. We can't let one bad battle stop us. What would she think of us?"

Cloud stood up, and paced back and forth for a moment, staring at his feet. In a rage he punched the wall. "We went in there expecting to fight Sephiroth," He muttered bitterly as he stared at the hole in the plaster. "instead we found some wannabe lackey. But still, we lost her..." He paused, and swallowed hard before turning to face Aeris. "How the hell are we supposed to stop Sephiroth when some imitation could do this to us? How can we stand up against the real thing when we were lucky to escape with our lives from a forgery?"

Of course, there was no answer Aeris could give him. In a huff, Cloud sat down on his bed, frustrated and grief-stricken as he held his head in his hands.

"Tifa...Tifa was one of the few people in this world that I really knew." Cloud continued. "She was real. She knew me better than I know myself, and I trusted her more than anyone. I felt... I felt like she was something that I could always fall back on. When things got insane, I figured I'd be able to rely on her to bring me back down to earth. She can't be gone..."

"I looked hard, Cloud." Aeris assured him, gently rubbing his shoulder. "There was nothing but blackness after the explosion. Her heart... her existence was gone."

"Fuck!" Cloud screamed, throwing another fit as he shot to his feet. "How could I let this happen?! I should have been able to stop him; I shouldn't have let him beat me! He was nobody and I just let him walk all over me. How the hell can I do this without her..."

"I know it's hard," Aeris said slowly, nearly floating to her feet as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But we have to keep going, for everyone's sake. Sephiroth's planning something awful, and we're the ones who have to stop him, no matter what it takes. We both know that he has to be stopped. We're the ones who have to fix everything. She'd of wanted it that way..."

"I just can't believe she's gone." He hushed. "I can't believe I've lost her again. Maybe she got away okay?" Cloud turned to her desperately, but she had no answer. "Sorry..." He muttered as he turned his attention back to the floor. 

"In times like these," Aeris whispered soothingly "Terrible things happen to the best of people, but they have to happen, no matter how badly we may not want them to. We couldn't expect all of us to get through this in the end. Tifa knew it better than anyone, and I'm sure she would want us to keep going with or without her." Aeris paused, watching the SOLDIER shake. "I'm very sorry Cloud."

"Aeris," Cloud inquired, his voice suddenly calm and almost paranoid as he turned to face her. "Who was that guy?"

"Huh?"

"He didn't care about any of us." Cloud continued as he stood to his feet, dissecting the event in his head. "He'd of slaughtered us in a second if he thought that's what you wanted. But he knew you were with us so he only did what he had to to get us out of the way. The whole time, all's he wanted was to talk to you, but we wouldn't let him because he scared you. He called you Rissy..." Cloud paused and gazed at Aeris as he unraveled the mystery. "Aeris...how did he know you?" Her eyes shot to the floor as she shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Who the hell was that?"

"I don't know." She quickly answered, obviously insincere.

"Aeris, we need to know who this guy is." Cloud persisted as he returned to his seat beside her. "We need to know what were facing if we ever expect to stand up against him. So who is he?" He paused, watching her as she wriggled uneasily, her eyes on her feet. "What did he do to you?"

"I don 't know him..." She insisted quietly. "It can't be him..."

"Who?" Cloud asked carefully.

"It's just..." She began painfully "He acted and talked just like him...but he was just too different. Everything about him was black, but he still just kept trying to be him, even though he wasn't...even though he couldn't be. He wanted to be him so badly..."

"Who?" Cloud urged, none the less patient.

"...But you're him." She said uncertainly, seemingly trying to discern her scattered thoughts and force them into words. "Down to the slightest detail. Everything about him that was good is in you. But you're not even trying, and he hated that, because he was working so hard just to not let it all slip away..." She paused and swallowed hard. "Seeing you fight him made me remember more about him...made me see that you we're both unique...both different from him. You tried to fight like him, but for whatever reason you couldn't be him then...but you did have the attitude, the confidence. He had everything else...but he was too angry, too worried, too scared."

"What could he possibly be scared of?"

"He was scared of you." She told him slowly. "He wasn't afraid of what you could do...just scared of what you were; what you represented. He saw you, and he feared that he really had lost it all..."

Cloud watched her for the longest time as she stared blankly at the floor. "What's his name?"

"I don't know." She said plainly with a simple shake of her head. "I had never met him."

  
  
  
  



	13. The Consequence of Touch

Chapter 13: The Consequence of Touch

  
  
  
  
  
  


Aeris tripped over her own feet and fell backwards onto soft, short green grass, cringing as she hit the ground and dropped her staff.

"Not bad." Zack smiled, twirling a long wooden stick in one hand before offering her the other. "You've gotten better, Rissy. Maybe you'll actually be able to get a hit on me someday."

She took his hand and he lifted her up onto her feet. The two stood in an enclosed field of grass, the sun from a hole in the upper plate shining down on them. Nearly everywhere around them were little sprouts, awaiting their chance to bloom and meet the day. In the center of it all was a cozy little home, freshly and brightly painted. It seemed the perfect little world, with nothing but a white picket fence protecting it from everything else.

"I don't know why I have to learn all this." She sighed, dusting off her pink dress "When in my life am I going to have to fight someone as tough as you?"

"You never know who you're gonna meet in a dark alley." Zack shrugged jokingly, again twirling the stick in his hand as he paced the garden for a moment. "Oh, and by the way: 'tough as me'? Please, there's no such thing. You're darn lucky I take it so easy on you."

"Really?" Aeris raised a skeptical eyebrow, comfortably resting against her staff that she had just planted into the ground.

"Yup." Zack smiled at her "In fact, if I went all out I might just end up damaging that pretty little face of yours, and I don't think there's a person in the world who wants that."

"Hmm." Aeris nodded her head and giggled softly before staring up at him with her bright emerald eyes. "I'd be careful if I were you. You never know when someone's going to knock you off of that high horse of yours."

"Who on earth's going to..." Zack began with a laugh before having his feet swept out from under him. He hit the ground with hard thud, and was on his way up until Aeris pushed his chest back down to the ground with the butt of her staff.

"Told ya." She giggled as she leant down towards him against her weapon, swaying back and forth as she smiled down softly at him. He only stared back up at her, enjoying the pretty image as her face blocked the sun. "Admit it." She began slowly, licking her lips before giving him another big bright beautiful smile. 

"Admit what?" He half chuckled half wondered, tilting his head to get a different angle of her as her long chestnut curls got in his face.

"The whole reason you're doing all this." She laughed as though it were obvious, leaning ever closer to his face. 

"What reason would that be?" He asked with a comfortable grin, lightly brushing her hanging curls aside.

"Don't act dumb." She gave him a loving but hard poke with her staff that made him whine a bit, which in turn made her giggle almost apologetically. "It's pretty obvious. You're doing all this because you loooove me." She laughed out loud as she sarcastically dragged out the ever dangerous L-word.

"WHAT?!" Zack shouted in a shocked, offended voice.

"You caaaare about me." She laughed even harder as she childishly got right in his face "You want to maaarry me..."

"Do not!"

"Say it!" She poked him again with her staff, and she only whipped her head backwards in a fit of laughter. He only stared at her, a very content grin on his face as she looked back down at him with another beautiful smile. 

All of a sudden, he reached up and kissed her long and hard, abruptly knocking her out of her humourous mood and effectively shutting her up. In a slow, devious move, Zack grabbed the back of her neck in one hand and the butt of her staff in the other. He rolled backwards and pulled her with him. She yelped and squirmed half heartedly as he quickly tossed her staff aside and pinned her wrists to the ground, quickly finding herself trapped under him. She stopped struggling pretty quickly and just stared up at him.

He just watched her for a long moment. Her slender shoulders sunk into the ground as she almost posed for him. She was wearing her trademark pink dress, the straps almost attached to her cream like skin, cut almost painfully just above anything suggestive. Her emerald green eyes staring up at him and a loving smile etched upon her face, he realized then that she was perfect; that this was perfect. This was exactly where he wanted to be.

"You first." He whispered with a devilish smile on his face.

"No fair!" She whined, kicking her feet and struggling under him before quickly giving up and smiling at him again. 

The two locked eyes for a long minute, neither saying a word, just enjoying the moment. Finally, she reached up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He snickered, and rolled off, lying next to her with his hands resting under his head as he stared up at their little chunk of sky. She quickly snuggled up next to him, resting her head on his chest and running a content hand through the grass on the other side of him. They lay there for some time, oblivious to the world.

"Hey," Aeris began anew as she got up on her knees and reached for a wallet on the ground, breaking the long comfortable silence. "You dropped this."

"Gimme that." Zack quickly sat up and reached for it, but she pulled away with a giggle and opened it. Within a moment, she pulled out a picture of a cute and very happy young blonde haired, blue eyed girl.

"Who's this?" Aeris asked jokingly as she looked at the picture "You got another girlfriend, Zack? She's a little young for you, but whatever..."

"Would you cut it out." Zack said, oddly sour as he pulled the picture away from her. "It's my sister."

"I didn't know you had a sister." Aeris edged up closer to him, an interested grin on her face as she lay down, resting the back of her head on his thigh. "What's her name?"

"Sara." He answered monotonously.

"She's cute." Aeris said, grabbing the picture from him "You must miss her quite a bit living out here by yourself."

"Yeah..." He muttered, strangely quiet as he stared at the picture. Without another word, he pulled his arm from her and stood to his feet, gathering his things. 

"What's wrong?" Aeris asked, somewhat confused as she sat up and watched him pack his things.

"Nothing." He said with a defiant sniff, rubbing his nose with his forearm, his back turned to her as he swung his arms into the straps of his backpack. "I just gotta go...I have some work to do."

"Well, okay..." Aeris conformed, disappointed.

"Bye..." He waved as he walked out of the garden and back into the real world, leaving her to wonder how she had stumbled upon such a bizarre nerve.

***

  
  


Adam walked the stone paved streets of Junon's highest level with what seemed to be a very intense focus. This section was an artificial 'olde' Junon, with imitations of homely, cozy little shops all along the roads. For a change, he was dressed lightly and comfortably in a plain old pair of black pants and a matching t-shirt. He hardly found it necessary to disguise himself anymore. Nobody ever seemed to notice him these days, let alone recognize him. 

He felt a reassuring chill run up his spine. He smiled at the sensation. So he could in fact still feel. He had been worried for a couple days that he had lost that too. Locked up in his room, nothing ever changed; he always felt the same. The air was damp and cold on his skin, and the sky was either completely full or utterly devoid of clouds. He couldn't tell anymore. His smile faded. 

"So," The silver haired imp began, his hands held behind his back as he did his best to keep up with the black clad man. "What horrors do you expect to unleash on the planet today?"

Adam seemed un-phased as he continued walking, scanning the buildings around him. He came to a stop in front of a small Deli. He looked in through the window at assorted meats and vegetables.

"I'm hungry..." He said aloud with a twinge of uncertainty, almost as though it was a decision he had just made. After all, he hadn't eaten in days, he told himself as he wandered into the quaint shop. He had every right to be hungry.

Adam picked up a bag and gathered what he thought looked to be the most appealing foods in the aisle he found himself in. Apples, pears and carrots were stuffed into the sack with little restraint.

"Hi." A capricious voice greeted form off to his side as he reached for a banana. 

Adam turned somewhat surprised towards the source after looking around and making sure that it wasn't directed towards anyone else. A young woman was smiling at him, amused by his confusion. She was wearing a simple pair of jeans and what he assumed was a white sleeveless t-shirt. Her hair might have been blonde, but was about shoulder length and stylized, and her posture made her seem quite confident.

"Those are half a gil each, just so you know. I assume that's not too much?" She asked conversationally.

"Don't worry about it." He answered with a wry grin on his face as reached for another orange. It was nice to be noticed.

"I think she likes you." The beast cut in as he watched from his spot in front of the window, arms folded as he leant backwards comfortably.

"Yeah, you SOLDIERs make a fair bit of money." She nodded her head. "You are a SOLDIER, right?"

"No." Adam told her with a shrug. "Used to be, though."

"Well, it figures." She smiled. "I see a few of them come in here once in awhile, and you look like you could fit right in with them. So you used to be one, huh?" She asked, and Adam just nodded his head as he reached for a carrot. "So what happened, you couldn't make the cut or something?"

"I wouldn't say that..." The beast snickered from afar.

"I decided it wasn't for me." Adam told her hesitantly. 

"Riiight." She chuckled, nodding her head and playing along. "Whatever you say, reject. The name's Julia, by the way." She offered him her hand, and he smiled and shook it firmly. She waited for a moment, but he seemed once more to be intent on the fruits he was choosing from. "The polite thing to do would be to tell me your name." She said with a giggle.

"My name's..." he began distractedly with a chuckle of his own, looking up from the fruits and vegetables when something in the other aisle caught his eye and made him go cold. 

Across from him, not more than a few feet, stood the beautiful little girl that haunted his thoughts and dreams. She stared at him almost shyly but intently with her big violet eyes, her curly brown hair hanging down past her shoulders as she held her hands behind her back. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Julia asked worriedly as the former SOLDIER stared out in front of him in a frightened shock.

"Time for a wake up call..." The beast snickered, anxiously rubbing his hands together.

"Are you okay?" Julia asked as she reached out and grabbed his naked arm.

All of a sudden a rush of feverish images exploded in his brain, jolting him back into reality. Memories and emotions that were not his own poured out by the millions through out his body, his mind struggling to keep up as he learned every minute detail about the owner of the pictures. After seemingly forever passed, he realized who these images belonged to: Julia Rebecca Foreman.

Less than a second had passed when he broke away from her with a frightened yelp. She staggered backwards, her eyes wide with terror as she stared into his, choking out a final muffled scream as she dropped to her knees. Adam stumbled backwards, horrified as the beast's laughter rang out loud in his ear and the girl fell to the floor, dead and empty.

"What the hell?!" The clerk screamed from behind his counter as he ran out to save his daughter, the patrons of his store dropping their things and mumbling amongst themselves in disarray. He grabbed the girl in his arms, shaking her violently as a very deep fear rose up in his heart. "What... what did you do?!"

"Look who's back..." The beast snickered as he paced back and forth behind his play thing.

"I didn't do anything!!!" Adam pleaded with a baffled and frightened scream, losing his balance and falling back against the aisle as he realized the apple in his hand had rotted to near nothingness. He immediately dropped the fruit to the ground and tried to run away, but the man got up and chased for a few paces.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!!!" Adam yelled desperately, but the man had already grabbed both of his arms. Adam fell to his knees and let out a piercing groan as he once more felt the surge inside his brain. A second passed and the man Adam knew now very well as Joseph Gregory Foreman fell to the floor, dead. 

The customers let out terrified screams as Adam stumbled back to his feet, turning back and staring in a muddle with his head in his hands at the man he had somehow just killed. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!" he finally screamed woefully at the beast, who only crossed his arms and laughed joyously.

"I'm not doing a thing." The beast shook his head happily "This is simply what you are."

The patrons became a mob around him as they closed in on the monster, seemingly ready to kill it. "GET AWAY FROM ME!!!" He roared at them, a vicious explosion of black following that shattered the store with the force of a bomb, mutilating everyone inside.

Adam could only stare in mortification as the entire building fell to pieces on top of the charred room full of blackened skeletons. He ran away as the building collapsed, and he was suddenly painfully aware of everyone and everything around him. The entire street watched him as he thundered through the road, howling and clutching his head. He quickly found himself knowing everything. There was a woman named Susan in a third-floor apartment who was cheating on her husband. There was an old man named Glen across the street who was dining and dashing. There was a man named Mark sitting on a bench who wondered what his wife Susan was up to. He really did love her.

It continued endlessly as Adam stumbled into the nearest alley, screaming in blinding pain as constant realization flooded him. He became incredibly claustrophobic as the entire world began to close in on him, every being on the planet suffocating him. 

"It's not going to stop." The beast explained factually, leaning back against the opposite wall casually and speaking to the wretched screaming man.

Adam could only muster out loathing, desperately pathetic sobs between mournful screams as seemingly divine knowledge forced itself upon him, expanding his mortal mind to a point where it seemed an explosion was imminent. He wanted so badly for it all to finally finish.

"That's the thing about infinite knowledge." The beast snickered, turning out to the ocean as a vicious storm began to brew, listening to the simple symphony of a panicked world. "It never ends." 

***

  
  


Aeris stumbled and fell to the ground as the whole world started coming down around her. She let out a pained, desperate scream as black fire exploded around her and cold dark nothingness viciously tore away at the blue sky. All around her, the planet quaked in terror as something awful awoke and threatened existence.

Aeris looked up past the dark flames and at her friends who looked to the sky in a confused shock. So they could feel it too this time. Before she had been the only one with ears for the planet's cries, but now they were loud enough for all to hear. Something horrible was on its way.

Cloud looked all around as an ear-piercingly loud hum echoed everywhere, as if the entire earth were screaming at once. Beneath the surface, he felt everything shake uncontrollably. When he noticed Aeris fall to the ground, clutching her head in her hands and biting back pained shrieks, he understood what was happening. The planet was pleading for her help. It was terrified.

A blinding explosion of white hot light in the distance lit up the sky, brighter than the sun. Every being on the earth couldn't help but look to its source: the Northen Continent.

"Oh my god, what are those?!?!" The young Yuffie screamed over the noise, shielding her eyes with one hand and pointing with the other.

Five horribly grotesque monsters tore out from the earth and scorched the sky with clouds of green mako. Enormous and visible from even thousands of miles away, they seemed horribly unnatural and almost robotic as they each let out deafening primal roars that thundered across the ocean and throughout the land. They soared through the sky, bitter of their imprisonment yet glad to finally fulfill their fate of destruction for the sake of restoration. Five more roars echoed through the sky, and they each jetted off to their own corners of the world to honour their responsibilities.

The always loud Barret let out his own roar. "What the fuck were those?!" He asked.

"The Weapons..." Aeris muttered, standing to her feet and staring out towards the north in a quiet shock. "They're here..."

The earth was suddenly enveloped in an unsettling dead silence, one that was almost more piercing than the animalistic roars from only seconds ago. Each of the remaining members of Avalanche swallowed hard, shaking as they shared frightened glances amongst themselves. They all knew that something that threatened them more than anything before had just arrived, and that the planet had just seriously upped the ante. A new war was beginning, one that they worried was beyond all of them. They could only imagine the darkness that was coming, but even that could not compare.

  
  



	14. Bland Horizons

Chapter 14: Bland Horizons

  
  
  
  
  
  


The silver haired imp watched with delight as his determined little puppet marched through Shin-Ra Inc., butchering anything in his way with perfect efficiency, leaving a thick trail of blood with every step he took.

He walked over to a small elevator across the room, and it opened for him without a touch, somehow aware of his presence. Casually, he stepped inside the small coffin like transporter, his arms folded as the doors automatically closed and the elevator descended for a few brief seconds before the doors reopened to a brand new room, which resembled a medical storage facility with its many crates and containers. But the imp only had his eye out for one thing, and he found it immediately.

It was a small grey dome, almost indistinguishable amongst all the other useless garbage. Hidden away behind general supplies and only occupying a small corner of the room, you wouldn't have noticed it unless you knew what it was: a tomb, or more accurately, a prison to hold something that couldn't be contained.

The beast walked right up close to the small hold, running his hands along its egg-like shell. "Everything's running smoothly," he told the cage soothingly. "You'll be back with him in no time."

A low growl resonated throughout the floor.

"Patience, mother..." the beast murmured, irritated. "It's a very delicate situation. He'll need time to adjust and become comfortable in his skin again. He's not quite ready to take you back yet. In the mean time..."

Forcefully, the beast grabbed onto the latch of the prison, and tore the door from its hinges. Cold white mist and bright hot sparks poured from the tear as the floor's lights began to short circuit, throwing the area into brief spouts of complete darkness. Amongst horrid, primal screams, the beast reached under his long black coat and pulled out a somewhat humanoid head, severed from its body, an anxious smile on his face as the head opened its red eyes.

From the fog emerged a grotesquely strange silhouette, floating out from its prison and levitating in front of the beast. Its skin was a pale blue, with navy coloured veins running rather explicitly throughout its entire body. It had vaguely feminine curves among bizarre, freakish tentacles across its back and scaly spikes along its bones and joints, with breasts and hips being all that resembled conventional humanity. It was monstrously beautiful, even if it had been decapitated.

The being grabbed the head in both its claw-like hands, ripping it away from the beast, hugging it to its chest for a moment before lifting it to its neck and resting it upon its slender shoulders as the veins and arteries reattached themselves like pieces of string. Finally, the two folds of skin blended into each other, and the entity known as Jenova was restored.

"Let's play..." Sephiroth snickered at the creature.

  
  


***

  
  


"So this is what the upper plate looks like..." Aeris began, looking up at the tall posh building that stretched upwards, cutting through the green smog and poisoned grey clouds. 

"You've never been?" Zack asked, rather surprised.

"Not lately." She shrugged "Hasn't changed much, though..."

"Let me guess..." He cut in playfully, and she smiled at him as she brought her eyes back down to earth. "'Still rich and dead', right?"

"I guess you could say that." She giggled. "I had something a little less bitter in mind, but whatever."

"Either way, it's still possible to have some fun up here, so we should at least make a conservative effort, okay?" She nodded emphatically, and he turned back around and the two were back on there way.

"Zack," Aeris began anew, noticing the ever-present Buster Sword slung along his back. "Why do you carry that big thing everywhere? It's such an eye-soar and it's gotta be heavy..."

A loud piercing whistle suddenly rung out, and as if to answer her question, the wall to their left disappeared in a massive explosion of fire and brick, sending the two hurtling forwards. When Aeris looked up from the debris, she found Zack holding her head between his arms protectively. He helped her up and the two immediately darted into a near-by alley-way as another explosion hit the pavement behind them. 

"Stay here, okay?" He told her, setting her down behind a dumpster, and darting off sword drawn before giving her the chance to answer.

"Fucking SOLDIER!" a voice rang out from the sky. "You've gotta pay!"

As Zack strolled into the middle of the street while the masses fled from the scene in the opposite direction, he got his first good look at the attacker. He was a foreign man of about forty, heavily armed with a bizarre giant robotic sort of suit which served as both a ship and a body that kept him about fifteen feet above street level.

"Listen bud." Zack called after the robotic beast. "I don't know who the hell you are but you better have a damn good excuse for interrupting my fucking promenade."

"You son of a bitch..." The man spat, shaking his head with fury. "It's all your kind's fault that the world is the way it is..."

"Oh I see..." Zack nodded his head rather sarcastically "So you've decided to fix it by tearing up a city block and endangering thousands of people. Good plan."

"It's SOLDIERs like you who killed my family..." The man continued with his rant. "It's SOLDIERs like you who burnt down Wutai...It's people like you who rip everything and anything apart just because it pays!" The man screamed. "It's SOLDIERs like you who took our country away from us and made us scared to even live!"

"It's terrorists like you made us." Zack yelled back at the man. 

"Don't you dare say that..." The man muttered, fuming. "Don't you dare get righteous with me...You did it for money, don't try and justify it you fucking whore... You invaded our land and slaughtered families without even thinking about it just because there was a big fat check paid for by the devil itself waiting for you at home. Don't you dare tell me we deserved it. Just because we had money and property that didn't belong to Shin-Ra does not give you the right to come and destroy us! We were faultless, all of us, and you murdered us by the thousands!!!"

With that the man fired a missile at the SOLDIER, who dove to the side as an explosion ate up the street. Zack quickly made his way into an alley, dodging machine gun fire from the Wutaien. In a flash, he was climbing a fire escape as the contraption rose higher into the air, following the SOLDIER with a restrained rage as he made his way to the roof.

As soon as he found himself on steady ground, he shot a barrage of fire spells at the man to little effect, who opened up on the roof with more machine gun fire. Once more, Zack escaped from the bullets, charging across the roof towards the street opposite of the machine. He jumped off as the machine chased him downwards to the street, but he grabbed onto the edge of the roof to prevent himself from falling as the man whizzed past him. Finding himself above the ship, Zack kicked himself off the wall and fell down upon it blade first. The Buster Sword stabbed deep into the hull of the machine, sparks raining out of the massive breach as the machine's boosters began to fail and it fell downwards.

The Wutaien struggled fiercely with the controls as the robot suit hit the pavement, back to the ground, but it did nothing as the SOLDIER stood atop the glass of the cockpit, staring down menacingly at the man.

"What can I say?" Zack shrugged to the furious screaming man, before stabbing the Buster Sword down past the glass and through the man's face. 

"It's a living." he muttered as shards of glass and blood splattered everywhere. He pulled the sword from the wound, and turned to find Aeris staring at him from the alley.

"I told you to stay where I left you." He called worriedly, running to hug the shocked girl who began to whimper a bit. "It wasn't safe to come here." He said, kissing her on the forehead, oblivious to the specks of blood on his face.

"Come on." He brushed her hair gently as she shook uncontrollably. "Let's get you home."

Spare arm around her, he walked with her hastily back towards the Sector seven slums, but all the while, she could only stare at the bloody Buster Sword in his other hand. 

***

  
  


It was a cold dark day in Olde Junon when Tifa found herself staring up at an ominous apartment building. A little less than a couple weeks ago, she had fled from it as though it were hell itself, but here she was about to go hunting after the same guy who took her hostage and almost killed her in a fit of severe insanity. Curiosity was the damndest thing.

She had done nothing but wonder about the man since the moment she left the room in which he kept her. She wondered what he was, where he had come from, and most of all, what he was planning on doing. He was obviously a force to be reckoned with, but the role he was playing in the big picture was clouded. She felt he was far too important to simply ignore, and the many mysteries he presented had been too much for her to resist.

She was dressed in a plain old white tank-top and a short black skirt, with little more than a leather jacket to protect her from the harsh late-fall briskness. She found it to be incredibly cold outside, which was partly because of the season and place, while mostly because of the fear crawling up her spine. She was not by any stretch the sort of girl that would be classified as a coward, but as she stared up at the dark grey sky, she found it hard to believe there was a person in the world who's knees wouldn't be buckling.

Eventually, she walked across the street and to the door of the dilapidated tower, briefly glancing at all the broken glass. On the door handle there was an automated lock, which she guessed would only allow permitted visitors to enter. Thankfully, it was old, damaged, and broken, so an intruder such as herself could make her way in with ease.

The inside of the building was strikingly reminiscent of Midgar. The faded brown walls were peeling in chunks, and graffiti was littered everywhere. Broken glass, used paper and other assorted garbage took up most of the dirty damp floor as the ceiling leaked, drops of water hit the ground rhythmically. The place seemed completely abandoned, aside from a few crows who stood in the corners or sat on the window-sills. At the end of the hallway was a lone elevator, dauntingly sinister as a dim electrical light enveloped it.

Hesitantly, Tifa pressed the up button for the elevator, and after an elongated mechanical hum, the door's two pieces slid in opposite directions and menacingly welcomed her into a cramped coffin-like room, lit only by a buzzing and fading hanging lamp. She pressed the button for the highest floor, and the doors sealed, trapping her in the box as the elevator strained upwards for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, they reopened to show her a familiar empty hallway with a foreboding door at the end. Here, the natural colours, the paint, and the wallpaper had all faded to a dull dark grey. It seemed the residential equivalent of a burnt up piece of paper, untouched and isolated from the growing world around it. If Death owned an apartment, this was it.

She contemplated what awaited her. Would the man be aggressive, passive, depressed, insane? Would he even be there when she walked into the room? Her most dominant fear was that he'd have completely lost it; that he'd have transformed into an animalistic vicious beast, ready and able to slaughter anything that walked through that front door. She was prepared to fight him if she had to, but considering what he had done to Avalanche, she sure as hell didn't want to.

Within the dead silence was what seemed like the only noise in the entire universe: a quiet, sort of confused, sustained chuckle that echoed out from somewhere beyond the door. She felt compelled to take this, her last chance to run away, but the door drew her in like a perpetual black-hole at the end of a corridor. Within a couple of reluctant minutes, she found herself slowly turning the knob, and even pushing forwards for the door to open.

After she opened the door, expecting everything and anything, she found exactly the opposite: nothing. Nothing but a breakfast table in an otherwise empty room, and a second door directly across from her. She let out an exasperated sigh, and shook her head at her own nervousness, but the laughter continued to suck her in. As she passed the table, she noticed various narcotic substances littered across it in large piles, probably worth thousands of Gil. After a moment of worried deliberation, she opened the second door, and was rather pleasantly taken aback by the enormous artificial window she found herself staring out of.

The absence of a wall that had apparently been forcefully torn from the building exposed a perfect landscape of a Junon at dusk. The gentle current of the ocean stretched out into the setting sun, which painted the normally grey cloudy sky a vibrant pink, casting colourful reflections upon the blue water's surface. It was chillingly beautiful as a mercilessly cold wind blew throughout the highly elevated room.

In the corner opposite to the make shift frame for the image sat the source of the laughter, oblivious to the beauty in front of him as he gawked in mild amusement at his own mutilated wrists and forearms. A dozen or so long, deep cuts ran throughout his arms, slicing veins and all as they intersected, leaving only small patches of skin below his elbow free from wounds or blood. 

Tifa watched the dark demented man, frozen stiff as still he laughed. "Oh my god..." was all her lips could muster as she leered with wide-eyed terror, inaudible whisper as it was.

"Don't worry..." He chortled, shaking his head in a slight daze. "It doesn't hurt..." He let out a louder, more maniacal laugh. "I can't even feel it..."

Odd as it may sound, it was not his pain that had her worried, or even the shattered syringes littered across the room. It was in fact his blood, which dripped to the floor as casually as a spilt glass of water. It wasn't natural; not the deep red colour humanity had come to accept as the norm. It was instead an icy navy blue that stained his skin, like the ocean washing against the sandy beige shore. It was horribly unconventional, and she couldn't help but feel sick to her stomach at the very thing he seemed to have overlooked.

"My god..." She repeated, swallowing hard as she forced herself to edge closer to him. "What's happened to you...?"

"Looks pretty obvious to me..." He snickered, shrugging at he looked back to his own slit wrists and arms "Doesn't seem to be working very well, though. It's funny... I should be able to feel this, right?"

She didn't answer, her eyes fixed on the running blood as she kneeled down beside him. "Here..." She began sympathetically, pulling a cloth from her pocket and going to wipe at him. "Let me help you..."

"Don't touch me..." He hissed, suddenly dead serious and a little bit panicked as he violently pulled away from her and retreated even further back into his corner.

She frowned, a bit hurt as she pocketed the cloth and took a seat beside him, and watched the sun fade further and further into the ocean.

"It's nothing personal..." He hushed eventually, apologetic with his head down as he pulled his legs closer to him "I just don't want to hurt you, is all..."

"I know who you are." She said rather dryly, and he simply turned his head to look at her. There was a long silence where neither made a noise or effort to speak, but Tifa finally continued "What happened to you, Zack?"

He swallowed and looked away, taken aback by the name. "I've had a rough five years, Teef..." He finally began with somewhat of a forced chuckle.

  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  



	15. Hurt

Chapter 15: Hurt

  
  


Two blue suited men stood in the middle of Olde Junon, staring rather indifferently at an obliterated Deli. One, with wild red hair spilling down his face, flicked a cigarette to the ground while the bald headed one simply stood there, arms crossed in his trademark statuesque manor. 

"Well," Reno sighed, frowning as he lit up. "Guess we better get to work." 

He stepped over the yellow police tape, and walked into the charred, blackened building, ignoring the officers investigating and the paramedics who futilely wheeled out blackened, fleshless skeletons atop stretchers. As he strolled, he accidentally crushed a skull under his foot.

"Fuck..." He muttered, brushing the ash and specs of bone off his boot. "Why the hell do I always get stuck with the shit jobs..." He looked to his fellow Turk expectantly, but the tall, no funny-business muscle simply shrugged. "God dammit..." Reno swore lazily, rubbing his eyes as he tried to overcome a mind-numbing hangover. "Elena and Tseng are on their way to exploring a freaking mythical temple while I'm stuck working a fucking crime scene..." He looked up at the sky and sighed. "Well, may as well finish this one fast..." He put his arm in front of a wandering cop who was madly scribbling onto a notepad, oblivious to his blue clad superiors. The officer looked up, and jumped in surprise when he saw the two Turks standing in front of him. "Alright," Reno began, forcefully tearing the notepad away from the officer and looking it over, half awake "So what's up?"

"Well, it seems there was an explosion..." The rather nervous cop began with a gulp.

"No shit ..." Reno sneered, briefly looking up from the messy writing to peer around at the incinerated Deli. "Who the hell cares?"

"Well, there doesn't seem to be any trace of a bomb..." The officer continued sheepishly.

"So?" Reno continued, irritated that he was still here instead of sleeping on his couch. "Ever hear of materia, dumbass? You know, it's that stuff we use to make things go boom."

"...And it seems that the explosion took place within seconds of those creatures bursting out of Gaea's peak..."

The skeptical Reno found himself at a loss for words, brief as it may be. "Coincidence." He uttered impatiently, finally finding one.

"...And a strange man was seen fleeing the scene immediately after the explosion." The officer went on with a gulp. "Reports indicate he matches our mysterious assassin of the late Pr. Shin-Ra, and the attacker of Pr. Rufus Shin-Ra's transport to Costa Del Sol. That's why we called you..."

Reno stared at the man for a second, and shoved the notepad into his arms, storming off with his comrade close behind. "God dammit..." Reno sighed, his hands on his hips, disappointed in the news that he wouldn't be going home any time soon as he flicked away yet another cigarette. "Looks like we've actually got a job to do here..." He shrugged and swung his arm around the giant Turk's shoulders, doing his best to lighten his own mood. "Well, Rude my friend, you up for a little bit of seek and destroy?"

The silent Turk cracked a rare smile.

***

Aeris stared at the newly ominous Buster Sword across the room, dried blood peeling from its tip. She sat atop her bed with her knees clenched to her, eyes a transparent sort of glassiness to them with her back against the wall, trembling slightly. 

  
  


Zack came into the room, wiping at his bloody face with a towel. "You okay?" He asked her, putting the towel around his shoulders as he sat down beside her. She didn't acknowledge him, eyes locked on the blade. He watched her for a long minute, a frown on his face. "Well, I've gotta get home." He told her, regrettably making his way to the sword. "Sorry about today. I know it was rough." He sheathed the sword, and she tilted her head and stared at her feet. "Unfortunately, There are a lot of psychos out there... Goodnight." He finished with a wave as he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. 

"You've done it before, haven't you?" She called after him rather quietly, focused on her feet.

"Hmm?" He asked, frozen in the doorframe "Done what?"

"Killed." She began, daring to look up into his eyes. "I've never really thought about it before tonight, but you must have done this before, right? It wasn't your first time, was it?" 

He snickered uncomfortably, looking away from her. "Goodnight, Aeris." He told her, shaking his head as he once more turned his back to her.

"How many people have you killed, Zack?" She asked, a bit choked up and worried.

"I don't want to talk about this..."

"How many?" She pressed, cutting him off as he began to shuffle nervously. 

"Drop it, Aeris. You're not being fair..."

"Please, Zack ." She begged sheepishly. "I need to know..."

"No you don't..." He muttered, his eyes to the floor as he shook his head. 

"Well then I want to." She said, moving up to the bed's edge and staring a hole through him.

"I don't know..." He murmured, looking up into her eyes, a rather abashed look in his own. "It's not like I've kept count..."

"Did they deserve it?" She asked after a hesitant gulp.

He didn't answer for the longest time, his arms folded as he stared at the ground. "I...I don't know..."

"How can you not know?' She demanded shakily but forcefully. "You killed them, didn't you? How could you kill them if you didn't know?!"

"I only know what I'm told and what I see..." He countered raising his voice slightly. 

"And that's enough for you?" She asked, rising to her feet. "You're willing to take a life just because someone tells you to?! What if they lied?! What if they tricked you?"

"You're making too big a deal of this..."

"You're a murderer."' She told him dryly, her eyes filled with furious tears. 

"Don't call me that." He said, a heading tone to his voice as he looked up at her with iron eyes. 

"It's what you are, isn't it?" She hissed. "God, I don't even know you anymore..."

  
  


"Bullshit!" He roared fiercely, and she stumbled back onto her bed from it's sheer force. He had a vicious sort of gleam in his eye as he took a menacing step towards her, but immediately pulled back, groaning in frustration as he tried to swallow his rage. "I've never been anyone but myself around you, Aeris. I am who I am, and I've never once pretended to be any different for you." He began, somewhat unsuccessfully calming himself as he turned away from her and snickered. "You know, it must be so easy for you sit there and call me that. It's so easy for you to just sit there and look down on me from that high moral horse of yours..." He trailed off, and she only watched him as he contemplated his words.

"You may think you have it rough down here, Aeris ." He began anew. "But it's not that much different anywhere else. People fight to survive everywhere. You do what you have to, even if it's wrong. You just desensitize yourself, and you don't let yourself think about it, because you just know that you have to do it, so you do it." He paused, waiting for a reaction, but none came. "I'm not going to try and justify the things I've done, Aeris." He said solemnly. "But I'm not going to apologize for them, either. I don't regret anything, because I'm who I am because of what I do. If you can't accept that..." He trembled a bit, and sort of forced a smirk as he turned to her "Well then I guess I've definitely got something to be sorry for."

She stared at him for the longest time, her wet, pained eyes digging into him as she hugged a pillow to herself. "You need to go..." She finally said quietly with a gulp, turning her eyes to the floor.

"Aeris ..." He began, taking a step towards her. 

"Just go!" She screamed, sending him reluctantly retreating backwards. 

He stared at her for about a minute, pondering his next move. In an irate huff, he stormed out her room and down the stairs, her eyes on his back the whole time. As soon as he passed her front gate, she let out a pained sob, falling onto her bed and crying longingly into her pillow. She had never let herself think of him as a SOLDIER before today. She had made herself look beyond the title, and see the abundant good in him. But she saw now that she had looked too far past who and what he was: a killer, an assassin, a blind lackey, and most of all, a SOLDIER. Now her self-deceit had caught up with her, and the man had become his title. He had killed, and she saw in his eyes how subtly he enjoyed the sport of it. She had fallen in love with a monster, and she feared that her's was a future not fit for a second.

She pressed her hand against her abdomen. She could promise no sunny days ahead; she was too uncertain to hope. This was not the world to birth a child into, let alone one with a killer for a father and herself as an inadequate mother. She couldn't bear to bear one.

***

Tifa watched Adam from across the room as he watched her, somewhat uncomfortable under his steely golden scrutiny. She knew he was picking her apart; unsuccessfully attempting to understand why she was here. He didn't want to confess weakness by simply asking her, and she wasn't anxious to tell. 

"You know,' She began, shivering as a cold wind came through the torn wall, trying to kill the silence with a conversation. She pointed at the shattered syringes and spilt powders littered around him. "That stuff is really bad for you."

He forced a sneer, consciously freeing her from his gaze, as he looked to the floor. "Are you that desperate to talk, Teef ?" He looked back up at her with those piercing eyes. "I'm sure there's plenty of other things you're curious about."

"I don't want to sound like some after school special or anything," She continued awkwardly, ignoring his offer and showing some genuine worry. "But whatever problems you have, they're not going to help."

He looked at her for a long second, reading her. "I appreciate the concern," He told her truthfully, accepting her topic of choice, at least for the moment "But I didn't really expect them to, anyway." He shrugged indifferently. "I just wanted to feel something. I didn't care if it was healthy or not."

  
  


She stared at him, slightly confused and sympathetic. Her eyes unintentionally wandered to his magnetic butchered wrists and forearms. The blood had ceased to flow, and the deep blue color had dried to his pale skin. 

"You don't have to be polite about it." He said plainly, noticing her focus. "I was just...frustrated." He began, correctly assuming what her next question would be and saving her the pain of asking it. "I was worried I was dead." He snickered at the absurdity. "It's hard to explain..." He continued, shaking his head. "I couldn't feel anything. All those little sensations that come with just being alive... they were gone. I lived my whole life with them, and all of a sudden, they weren't there anymore." He looked up at her, and she did her best to feign understanding, but he saw through it. 

"You don't even notice them when they're there," He went on. "because you're just so used to them being part of it all. But when they're gone..." He paused, holding his fist to his heart, staring emptily in front of himself. "It's like there's not even anything left there inside of you. You're hollow; like you've just had everything inside you ripped away, but for some reason, you're still there. But that's all you are. You're just there. You're not anything, you just exist, and that's all."

He paused, swallowing hard as he struggled to remain stoic and distant, burying emotions.

"I needed so badly to feel something." He explained, somewhat shamefully. "I tried drugs, but they didn't do anything. Nothing. No buzz, no high, not even pain. But there's always pain... That's what worried me the most, because when there's nothing else, there's still usually pain..." 

She bit her lip, her head spinning as he so joylessly drew a picture of his numbness for her.

"I tried to make myself hurt..." He forced himself to go on, exposing the disgusting wounds, looking at them with a child's fascination. "I cut, I tore, I stabbed, I ripped away at myself..." He shook in fury as he watched the wounds heal, and it poured into his voice. "Nothing. Not even a tingle. I bled for fucking hours!" he roared, and the two of them trembled together at his own force. After a moment, he laughed, shaking his head. "But nothing. Ever." 

He dragged an unsteady hand through his hair, and looked out his makeshift window. Again, the two sat in silence, with nothing but the harsh wind escaping the stagnance. She couldn't help but wonder what had become of the mighty SOLDIER, how he could have possibly lost so much as to turn into this: a desperate, tortured, broken man. She was compelled to look away in repulsion from the once distinguished idol.

"It must be beautiful." He began, interrupting her pondering. 

She looked up, unaware of what he was referring to, and found his eyes focused on the dwindling sun across the ocean as it succumbed to the inescapable darkness of night.

"The sunset, I mean." He gestured his hand at the painted sky, a forlorn sort of twinkle in his eye. "The pinks, the yellows, the oranges... must be nice."

"Yeah, I guess..." She shrugged, raising a skeptical eyebrow to the image, digging past the scenery in hopes of finding something unseen.

"I can't see them anymore." He explained with a frown, a detached sort of way to his speech. "It's all grey these days. No more colours." He paused, shifting his weight. "I try to remember what they look like a lot. I don't want to let myself forget them, but they're all just fading into dull shades of black and white." He shuddered. "I see right through people now. I see what they're thinking, I see what they're feeling, and I see what they try and hide from everyone. Everyone's got a skeleton in there closet, and everyone's always pretending to be something they're not. They're all black when I look inside them. All of them. I try to see the colours, but I just can't, so I forget them..." He then grinned wryly. "Except for red. I definitely remember red. What's that say about me?"

"Wow..." She uttered, observing him like a favored specimen "Must be..." Tifa began, but trailed off, unable to think of an appropriate word.

"Bland? Depressing? Bleak? Go ahead and stop me, or else I'll just go on forever."

"Refreshing." She decided, unusual a choice as it may be. "I mean it must simplify everything quite a bit. Eliminates all the specifics, makes everything black and white." She cringed as he raised his own eyebrow at her. "Pardon the pun."

" 'Refreshing' is hardly the right word." He told her, shaking his head and ignoring her unintentional wisecrack. "How can something be refreshing without ever having any flavor to it? Life needs spices."

"But too much can ruin the meal." She cracked again. "You on the other hand are left with the bare basics. You see everything as it is, no disguises. No more faking beauty or masking the deep down reality of people."

"If getting rid of the fake beauty leaves no beauty at all, I hardly see why it's a good thing." He countered. "If what's real is just darkness, isn't it better just to live superficially? Better to be locked away in a pretty prison than be outside in the storm, right?"

"But there's still real beauty," She persisted. "It's just harder to find. But when you've got it, it'll be all the more satisfying when you know it's real." 

He snickered, bitter and all too jaded not to be skeptical.

"What about me?" She asked after a moment's quiet, a small but warm smile on her face and a sweetness to her eyes. "Am I beautiful?"

He stared at her in silence, unreadable and statuesque as he wondered what would be the best answer. He finally decided on none, looking away from her and again at the grey sun, leaving her to analyze his reaction, or lack there of.

"So when are they coming for you?" He asked, interrupting her musings.

"Hmm?" She murmured, again ignorant to his implications.

"Avalanche." He specified. "They must be coming for you, or else you'd have already gone to them."

"They're not coming." She told him, shifting uncomfortably as she looked away from him. "They don't know I'm here..."

"Well if they don't know you're here, then they probably think you're dead." He warned her. "I made quite a mess of them and that ship. A casualty could only be expected, and I'm sure they realize it."

"Probably for the best..." She muttered inaudibly to herself.

"Now why is that?" He asked puzzlingly, once more understanding things not meant to be understood.

She frowned at his eavesdropping. "I don't want to say." She told him.

"You're sure?" He offered his ear. "Because odds are I already know what you're going to tell me."

"We should get you a doctor," She side-stepped the subject, gathering her things off the ground beside her. "You're bleeding pretty badly..."

"I wouldn't worry about it..." He showed off his healed forearms, devoid of anything resembling a wound or a scab, only what seemed like dried ink on his skin. 

"That's not possible..." She stared at the scarless skin in a quiet shock. "It's a miracle..."

"Well, I wouldn't call it that..." He snickered. "I doubt anybody up there's trying to do me a favor..." He laughed for a second, but all of a sudden turned deadly serious and looked away at the sky as something caught his attention.

"What's wrong?" She asked worriedly, standing to her feet. 

  
  
  
  


"Someone's here..." He explained, jumping to his feet and reaching for the Masamune and Buster Sword across from him. "We've gotta move..." He muttered, ushering Tifa towards the door just as it exploded in a vicious burst of controlled but unvanquishable flame that sent them hurtling into the wall opposite them. As they slunk to the floor into two seemingly broken piles, faces cringed, a blue suited red head strut through the charred remains of the entrance.

"Well," Reno began with a cocky smirk, Mag rod crackling as he leant it against his shoulder. "What have we here?" 


End file.
